Peter Pan

   Today before I sat down to write this post I looked out the window and thought I saw the image of Peter Pan in the clouds.  For a moment London transformed, it wasn't busy city with a dirty, unfriendly underground.  It was a city full of the magic of Peter Pan.  If I were a younger child I would quietly suspect he was some where around the city and hold with a firm unspoken confidence that perhaps tonight he might come and teach me to fly to Neverland.  

One thing I've always wanted to do is visit that statue in Kensington Garden, and on May 1, 2009, I did that,  97 years after it was placed there, to the day.  There was a magic in the exactness of the dates and I reflected on the 97 years that statue has stood there in the place the book claims Peter landed. I've looked for 1st editions of the book and I've found a few, but 

none that I could afford.  I don't know what it is in the book of Peter Pan, or the 

story, or the 

statue that turn the gears of magic

 in the mind.  I guess Peter reminds us that while we may have to grow old he always gives us the opportunity to refuse to grow up.