five-sense Friday

I've been...

hearing: sprinklers coming on in the park across the street late at night, like champagne bottles fizzing with no one to appreciate them in the dark; babies pushed in strollers on the sidewalk, burbling at the sky; children shrieking with joy when the sprinklers come on at the park in the daylight

smelling: a cake baking in the oven last night; smoke from grilled kebabs marinated in lemon and garlic; lavender lotion to calm my Braxton Hicks contractions (and my mind)

tasting: said kebabs and cucumber sauce and brown rice and veggies; said cake, with a semisweet glaze and vanilla frozen yogurt; the promise of one-ingredient banana ice cream tonight or tomorrow (peel and cut bananas, freeze them a few hours, throw in food processor, struggle over whether to add in peanut butter and honey or nutella)

feeling: a tiny being flopping around inside my belly, nearly all the time; cool sheets and evening breezes; the zooming of time; thankful

seeing: trade-offs between cloud and sky; a vase full of sunflowers from the church garden plot; clusters of tomatoes on my plants, triumphant; a single yellow pepper on another plant, waiting to surrender itself to our pizza or salad