A little Senses Inventory to tiptoe into this spectacular, leisurely Sunday. Lots of texture to experience. And let’s add cravings to the mix, okay? As always you are warmly invited to add your own inventory in comments… xoxo
See: Feathery, scrappy hula-hoop dream catcher accepting all the sun and maybe some dreams too. Wedding chandelier, also made from scraps and a hula hoop, like a cotton jelly fish in the breeze. It’s hanging from a red bud tree which is on her last leg and covered in blue-green scales. Still beautiful. A grove of Oak trees making willing trades of their waxy green for crispy browns and orange. Yellow wildflowers growing in the shade, where the sand is being slowly overtaken by grass. Thank goodness. Garden gate dressed in skimpy, sexy morning glory vines. Nature’s lingerie. Rusted milk cans bursting with bouquets of garden tools. So many rakes, spades, and poles. Where did they all come from? Sun streaming in with vibrating energy from behind us, pink and gold and fierce this morning. Floods of it washing over the pasture to our right, setting that miniature prairie on fire. Cold fire pit below the deck where we’re sitting. Cedar benches circling it like a little Stonehenge. Unlit strings of lights above us. Fruit trees to our left, thinner now and bronzing. Feathery willow tree downhill, keeping watch over the pond. Almost yellow.
Hear: Chorus of angry crows above the forest. Blue jay squawking, other birds warbling gently, a single woodpecker. Interstate noise in the distance, once again easy to imagine it’s the ocean. Klaus scampering loud and clumsy across the wooden deck, giving chase to Natasha. Twigs cracking. Acorns pinging on the smokehouse’s tin roof.
Smell: Coffee, less sweet today, finally. Faintest bit of chlorine. My own lotion and deodorant. Not much else. There’s an unusual cleanness to the air today, crisp but empty of even wood smoke. Weird. Nice though.
Taste: Only my coffee. The chewiness of the cream reminds me of New Orleans.
Touch: Cool breeze, gentle like breath on my skin. Especially nice on my neck and bare shoulders. Warm coffee mug in my left hand, skinny ink pen in my right. Mesh lawn chair beneath me, paper thin rubber flip flops riddled with craters and sticker scars. Now a wash of warmth on the back of my neck.
Think: If instead of living here I were to just visit this place, maybe stay for the weekend with a stack of books and empty spirals, a pair of running shoes and yoga mat, I would see it as a perfect retreat. I would wonder how this place exists and never want to leave, would want to absorb every detail at every time of day and never step inside. If I were a visitor my eyes might not see work undone or projects to schedule, manure to scoop, gardens to clean. My eyes might see it as beautifully and lovingly as I do at this moment. How much time am I wasting in life? Since autumn is historically when our life tends to change in big ways, October is more of a New Year marker than January. So I sit here thinking how different life is now compared to last October. And how will things have changed by October 2016? What dreams will have been pursued, what miracles will we have in the bank? What burdens will be lifted, or traded for new ones, because we will be stronger then?
Feel: Settled. Feeling settled and energized both physically and emotionally. Optimistic way beyond the outer affirmations kind of optimism. Feeling truly excited for the challenges and opportunities right around the corner. Trembling with happiness for my people.
Crave: I crave a fragrant, slow burning bonfire, deep laughter, and meaningful conversation. Lingering affection. Easy, soaking-into-your-bones kind of stuff. Craving blocks of time to write. More than blogging. Really writing. Craving soup and watermelon too.
Okay friends, thank you so much for joining me today.
Have yourself a really wonderful Sunday.
“They’re really saying I love you…”