Gracious me, is life ever full these days. I feel like all I've been seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing, and feeling boils down to paper and print: books and student essays and my own gradebook and slides and notes.
But life is rich in other ways as well. Apart from the pages and words, I've been
hearing: cellos on the radio, and my own piano practicing, and the squeaky sound of wet boots in the hall outside my office
smelling: the lotion my sweet mom gave me for Christmas, lingering in rooms I've left and returned to; coffee when Josh makes it some mornings; that sweet donut-coffee scent that wafts around the Tim Horton's in the basement of the Arts building when I walk past on my way to class
seeing: light lasting slightly longer in the evenings--dusk instead of dark on the ride home; candlelight every night; satisfyingly finished stacks of things
feeling: cold centered in my lower back in the car ride in; snow creeping up over the black flats I shouldn't have worn today; that deep-breath kind of relief that comes with a weekend when it isn't too full
tasting: apples and oranges; Asian takeout with large shards of garlic; cocoa mixed with coffee; later: pizza (always pizza)