see
- a wee brown bat has roosted in the tiny space between the storm glass and the screen of our bedroom window.
- on my friday morning commute a giant amber moon set in the direction of my destination while a fluorescent pink sun rose over my home behind me.
- autumn leaves. evidence that this earth, this life, always offers exquisite respites from suffering.
hear
- having a cars moment, candy-o on repeat over here.
taste
- roasted brussels spouts
- honeycrisp apples
- whisky
smell
- backyard fire
- smoke of just-extinguished candles
- that heater-just-came-on-for-the-first-time smell
touch
- cushy new sweater
- the prick of the needles during topiary shaping
know
- the bat is a visitor (not sure who)
- deep sense of settling down, time to rest, inward-bound
six senses saturday is a revival of five senses friday, a regular way to note how my senses were delighted and challenged during the week with the addition of intuition.
