I’m lucky enough to be married to a wizard. He often comes home from work and tries to explain to me why the different potions he mixed in his cauldron turned into magical roof coatings, but the science part of my brain is under-developed and it quickly starts to melt, so he sighs and agrees “yes it’s magic.”
I’d love to be a wizard. What must it be like to open kitchen cupboards and fridges, take random pieces of food and wizardy-wizardy-woo them into a fabulous meal?
To me, my lack of scientific knowledge means nothing is impossible and I’m sure that’s the first step to being a wizard. Once upon a time, simple humans thought once you’d seen something happen, you’d never be able to see it again. Then some bright wizard invented film! A couple of hundred years ago, we couldn’t imagine travelling from Edinburgh to London in less than 4 weeks and then some clever wizard came along and invented the train. Now it’s only about four hours. Thanks to SpaceX there’s a strong chance we could be reaching Sydney in that time in the not too distant future!
Therefore, I think it is perfectly feasible that one day, people will be able to see and hear things that happened in the past, possibly hundreds of years ago, before recording equipment had been invented. I’m convinced that everything we say near wood or stone is somehow imprinted into the natural material and we just need to find a way of extracting that information, then we’ll be able to hear what the cavemen were saying, when they were carving buffalo pictures into the cave walls.
This causes me a problem when I walk over the stone bridge in our town. I often use dry sarcasm (I know – the lowest sense of wit) when speaking. For example, when I was dropping my son off at school this morning, we were almost late because we hit every red light. After one set I commented “how dare that woman use the traffic lights to keep her little child safe as she crosses the road – doesn’t she know we need to get to school?” Then I realised we were driving over the stone bridge so I had to say out loud “sorry – just a pathetic attempt at humour”.
My son thinks I’m a little odd, but in a hundred or thousand years, he’ll realise I was right. Thanks to a future wizard, we’ll be able to eve’s drop on Dick Turpin’s gang as they hid in the Royal Forest of Waltham and we’ll be able to watch dinosaurs making their dens in caves. Nothing is impossible. Bookmark this blog – I know I’m right!
Rachel Coverdale 