I love to watch my dog pounce on a toy in victory. I love the way he jumps up on the sofa right by me looks straight into my eyes and then as though he is puzzled, looks away for a second then back at me until he figures out what’s next.
I love the way cats purr and mix dough when they are content. Sometimes their eyes close and they seem to have smiles on their faces like they are sleeping in a poppy field. I love that they are not like dogs because they teach me about getting needs met without attachment.
I love the way hummingbirds can go up or down or sideways or fly in one place for a while. I love that they are so tiny and yet strong. And like me, they have a sweet tooth. I’m a lot like them.
I love to listen to the ocean or a stream bumping along over river stones or the sound of a flute floating on the air as I feel these rocking me gently to the quite rhythm of breathing in and out, of life.
I love the acidic taste of lemon upon fish and the crunch of a crispy pizza and a cup of steaming anything when the weather is damp or chilly. I like how coffee runs through my veins and gets my brains in gear or how sweet tea just makes a meal complete somehow. My taste buds like to show off.
I love the ticking of a clock that reminds me of my grandmother’s hall clock when I was young. It reminds me of home and days gone by. A fire crackling in a fireplace has it’s own delights mesmerizing, enchanting, glowing and warming it invites me to remember a time when my piano teacher had a party for us students and we roasted marshmallows in the fireplace.
I love the sound of an airplane flying overhead placing visions of bygone trips and trips to come where for a while I leave my normal life behind and see, hear, touch, smell, and take in all the nuances of different cultures that I can. Climbing up falls, looking at ruins, seeing great cathedrals and monuments, visiting museums, hobnobbing with the country and city folks, eyes wide with wonder and gratitude.
I love the smell of bacon and wonder why it is that is not so good for my body. I love the feel and touch of books and the excitement, the mystery, the love, the truths, and the ideas they embody. I love to go barefooted and feel the floor, the ground, the grass, the carpet the sand beneath my feet. It ground me. I love the freshness and newness of Spring after a gray and chilly winter. I am born again when the flowers bloom.
I love the gift of life that has been given to me in all its forms. I am so grateful for all that I have and have experienced. Life is good. All is well.