When Breakfast Becomes Magic

Sometimes I catch myself in the rhythm of morning habits, you know—the gentle swirl of oats, the sound of a wooden spoon tapping the edges, soft light filtering through the kitchen window. It’s easy to think I’m just waking up to another ordinary day, repeating the moves I hardly even notice anymore.

But there’s this quiet, sneaky sort of wonder hiding inside these simple acts. Today, as I watched the oatmeal spiral, something felt... different. The patterns swirled in ways I hadn’t seen before; almost like the breakfast was stirring me back. And in that breath of anticipation, the ordinary fell away—the stirring grew wild, oats drawing circles with a mind of their own, and just for a heart-skip second, magic peeked through.

Suddenly, feathers. Light bursting golden. Where oatmeal had been, now there’s wings folding open—a white owl just hovering, quiet and bright, where my breakfast was. My hand pauses, suspended somewhere between disbelief and joy.

I guess what I’m saying is: sometimes, inside the things we do a hundred times and forget, something extraordinary is waiting. Stay curious. Because who knows what kind of magic you’ve got swirling around in your morning routine?