Seeing: Smiles. So many little eight-toothed smiles like a flash of brightness into a long day. Dark red BC cherries that I just can't pass up. Little green figs growing on the neighbor's tree that hangs over into our backyard. The pink and green of sliced figs waiting in a bowl.
Hearing: During diaper changes, belly laughter. During play time, shrieks of pure delight. On a walk, scenic commentary: uhh-uhh-ohh-ohh. In between, a bit of fussing, a bit of pure silence. The leaves rustling on my arms as I raid the fig tree. The plum pot plop all day long.
Feeling: Sunscreen slick between my fingers as I rub it on small face and arms and then bigger face and arms. Sun and sweat heavy on my skin. The wrinkly laminated cover of a library paperback to get me through a long upcoming week. Sticky fig-milk oozing out of fresh split skins. The steam heat of jamming and canning pots.
Smelling: Diapers and compost and a wet bathroom (just to remind me of my mortality). Sweet brown grasses and the odd, memorable scent of the Health Food store. Something burnt on the cooktop, something yummy in process.
Tasting: Leftover plum cake with friends. Chunky homemade applesauce. Leftover dinner. Jam samples: cherries, bright and sweet; figs, light like strawberries that grow in the air; plums, not quite like I remember them...