Each individual person has their own simple pleasures, simple passions, things that ring true and honest in their hearts. Such things defy convention, and also, explanation, for they are their own, they need no explanation.
Pleasure is derived in so many forms, may it be common bits of happiness, or perhaps the odd moment that tickles one to their very soul. And you, the reader, should you choose to read on, shall find but a few of mine in the words that follow.
I marvel at the comfort of a long drive, windows down and the only company I have is that of words and music to soothe me, for there is nothing like an amazing song with a long stetch of open road before you. Also, now with aid of my lovely new bike, Lily, I am able to explore so much more in these sea side towns I love so, at times, alone with my thoughts, other moments allow me the company of one of the many fine folks I have the honor of keeping company with.
Or for the sake of appealing to my rather keen sense of smell, on some evenings, the breeze blows so through my room so that I may smell the pungent sea brine. At the other end of my delightfully crooked abode is my comfy living room, and there, there is always a gentle breeze to bring the scent of my garden to me. As of late, the dominating scent is my lily garden, it brings a soft thrill to me each time. Years ago, when my neices and nephew were so much smaller, I loved bath time, because once the were dried off and in their fuzzy pajams, they would all crowd onto me and curl up on my lap, so many sweet, tiny heads to smell, being an aunt is a thing to marvel at. And have you ever driven down a patch of road way in the midst of spring to have the permiating scent of lilacs in bloom transforn the ordinary moment? I have.
I love the feeling of fresh sheets after having taken a long shower. And I don’t think I will ever stop wanting to stroke a puppies ears each time I happen upon one, for they are one the softest things I have ever known, try it some time, you most certainly shall see what I mean. Another I think many will agree upon is the tactile sensation of a heart felt hug, when one puts a thousand words in one simple act of physical contact. Perhaps one that some may find odd, is how I adore the sensation of putting pen to paper, I can’t explain it beyond the knowledge of the endless possibilities a blank page offers.
Then there are the moments, when laughter over takes conversation, your face is in a permanant state of smile and your sides begin to ache, that, is a good one indeed. Or when a person who is distressed smiles for one reason or another, and you helped to bring that moment to them, you have then accomplished something of much worth. I love these moments best when they are in my home, my garden or on the porch, because then when you sit there, you can conjur the memory so easily after the fact. I love to think back to when I have had a supper in the late evening in the garden, withfood and libations aplenty and the company to compliment it all. For these times are largely unplanned and they seem to be the most wonderful. At times, I have been puttering about when a random knock comes to my door, and to have the surprise at the other side, a friend who knows to merely stop by, makes my heart full.
Let us not forget some of my favorites, when a kiss is more than just a kiss. When a large hand of a man takes mine, or is gently rested upon the small of my back. On cool, rainy Sundays, when you have a warm body laying next to you and nothing to keep you from nestling into it. Or of times when arms have encircled my body to slowly sway to the music that isn’t there. Times have found me being awoken at some late, unfamiliar hour when one didn’t wish to wait till morning to be with me, that, that one gets me every time. And how it makes me swoon when a vicious storm is brewing and I have someone to play with outside, to share the elements with, knowing that when inside we go, to dry off, get warm, the quietness of melting into a safe embrace. THAT may be one I will always find to be dearest to me.