The moon lit the night green grass, and the trees made walls of dark secrets. I listened to joy-filled music. I watched as dancers twirled and skipped, their feet hardly seeming to leave tracks in the dew. Slowly moving apart, they joined hands and circled. Although there was no plan, no direction, every move seemed choreographed. I walked away before the sun rose, before the cool mystery of night turned to the clarity of day. I wanted to remember the magic, for magic was what it had seemed, and imagination thrives in the shadow-dark places of our hearts.