Magnus was a witch and owned a broom.

And some early mornings he flew away from the Town into the Forest.

There he became a furry little being that didn’t have a name.

And went exploring. He jumped from stone to stone and stopped to wonder at all the little streams.

He listened with a tilted head to the great wisdom that only comes to those who can hear silence.

He often tried a handstand against some sturdier trees and laughed when he fell to the moss. (Though sometimes he got a sore back.)

He talked to birds and frogs and didn’t quite understand what they in turn tried to tell him.

Then, before flying back to the Town, he would enjoy a cup of tea in a small den he had made for himself. He would dress himself properly. And turn back to a human and start calling himself Magnus again.

In the evening (or when it suited him best) Magnus flew back to the Town. And if his neighbours ever asked, he had to confess he had done nothing particularly useful with his day. Nothing that would really interest anyone.

But it had been a great day.