Take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves.
~ Lewis Carroll
I felt a sense of joy today, twice even. The first time was early morning, but I forgot where I was. Even though not all is right with the world, I felt a swelling of happiness inside.
The second time I was sitting in front of a coffee shop, staring up over the buildings and in to the adjacent mountains, feeling truly alive and acutely aware of the wind and cold. I watched crows playing on that wind, letting it orchestrate their dance.
It was a day of senses, and I knew it was a special day as the first thing I smelled were some week-old flowers in my office, not rotting but fragrant. As I walked inside from my lunchtime stroll the scent of stems in water and wilting lilies rose up to greet me.
Then, there was the sound of asparagus being broken and hitting a stainless pan, a light ping-ping-ping.
And my little bird Willie, endlessly calling. I finally realized, after all this time, he wasn’t calling for me, but to the Black Phoebe, Sayornis nigricans, hunting for the last of his sunset meal on my lawn.
Washing dishes sounds like rain. I didn’t rush through that tonight.