five-sense Friday

I'm still getting used to the rhythms of workweeks, and that learning curve is my excuse for forgetting to do this Friday exercise last week. But here I am, and I've been...

hearing: the hum of the air duct system above my office; laughter in the hall; our landlord's pretty great guitar practicing; my halting return to church musicianship; loud waves crashing on the beach of a fairly large northern lake

seeing: those waves, and the way they display their contents like a cross-section as they rise just before surrendering to the beach's sand; the delicate ferns of a boreal shield forest; fast-moving prairie rainstorms that move in with thunder and lighting and pouring rain, then move on out again

smelling: coffee in the break room; clean air along the lakefront; the distinctive sweetness of typewriters in my office; new dish soap, which surprises me every time I use it

feeling: the damp of a basement apartment after weeks of rain; gratitude, still, for a bed after nearly a month on an air mattress; satisfaction at finishing this and that; hopeful about new possibilities

tasting: Tim Horton's decaf with cream (no sugar? really? they always ask--though cream-only is much simpler than the disbelief one encounters upon ordering it black); chocolate brownies with mint chips; a Josh-made dinner last night (!); afternoon chocolate, as always