My observation may not rate as high as Carl Jung's on the scale of wondrous synchronicities — but still...
Swiss Psychologist Carl Gustav Jung coined the term synchronicity to signify "the simultaneous occurrence of two meaningful but not causally connected events," or as "a coincidence in time of two or more casually unrelated events which have the same or similar meaning...equal in rank to a causality as a principle of explanation."
Synchronicity is the occurrence of a physical event in the world which occurs at or near the same time that it is being discussed or thought about. The essence of synchronicity is felt, for there is often significance and meaning associated with it.
This is how Carl Jung happened to coin the term:
"A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window-pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer (Cetonia aurata), which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment." (The Collected Works of Carl Jung, Volume 8, pg. 843)
It's this kind of interplay between the eternal spirit and one's physical self that lends to a certain freedom and playfulness that exists beyond the scope and perception of the rational mind — beyond "coincidence." I find that the more attentive we become to the synchronicities in our lives, the more frequently we will experience them. It's a certain lens of perception that enables us to participate in this type of interaction in a present and conscious way.
While on my 2010 Fall Tour, I've been staying in the guest "Chalet" of my hostess' home in the redwoods of Marin. It's a lovely dwelling, perched up the mountainside from the main house, a restored Swiss hiking lodge. Both houses are reachable only by taking a tram vestibule up the mountain from the carport below. Then one must climb up a wooded path of many stairs to reach the Chalet.
Yesterday, I began my climb down the steps to the tram housing at the main house to greet two morning clients who'd come together for consultations. On my way, I nearly stepped on a most unusual-looking critter - maybe 5 inches long, orange-ish and slimy. Ewe. It was inching its way across one of the top steps. I stepped around it, wishing it to arrive at its destination before my return up the hill with my clients.
Well into the first client's session, her (non-physical) father transmitted the word, "banana." "OH, YES!" replied my client, "He's referring to 'banana slugs!' My family adored the little creatures! My daughter loves them! It was the mascot at UC Santa Cruz!" I told her about my first encounter with one, just minutes before her arrival.
(From the UCSC website: "The Banana Slug, a bright yellow, slimy, shell-less mollusk commonly found on the redwood forest floor, was the unofficial mascot for UC Santa Cruz coed teams since the university's early years. The students' embrace of such a lowly creature was their response to the fierce athletic competition fostered at most American universities.")
Clearly — (I know now) — banana slugs are indigenous to redwood forests, not as phenomenal an occurrence as Carl Jung's scarab beetle, but still, a most auspicious. event!—at least my client's father thought so...