Six Senses #55

Taste:
• Lightly browned strawberry banana pancakes
• Sweet caramelized tofu with crunchy Brussels sprouts and toasted pecans
• Homemade sesame cookies with local ginger ice cream
• Grilled tofu pups with sweet relish and Vidalia onions. Tofu pups are nowhere near as good as the real thing.

Smell:
• Sweet little Pinks in bloom
• Pungent wood smoke in an increasing night breeze
• Spicy fresh arugula, the first harvest from the garden

See:
• The green wings of a giant Luna moth fluttering in orbit around the yellow cabin light
• A barred owl diving in front of the car, then rising on powerful wings that carried him swiftly away into the dark
• The diffused glow of the full flower moon behind a light curtain of high clouds
• The spellbinding glow of stained glass windows at sunset

Feel:
• When chanting with a group there are moments when my entire emotional state goes into a blender with everyone else's emotional state and gets whirled around. What comes out can be quite the odd mix.
• I was shocked to walk to into the Snatum Kaur/Guru Singh concert Sunday night and see open seats in the very front row that I kept waiting for someone to come and kick us out. They didn't. Feeling shocked turned to feeling grateful.
• Being home for 6 gorgeous days with no obligations or errands to run — that's the kind of relaxed reality I could get very used to. "I thought it was boring?" J teased me. "I'm starting to like boring."

Touch:
• I have dirt under my fingernails, poison ivy on my knees, horse fly bites on my shoulders, a stripe of sunburn on my lower back, and the bottom of my feet are cut from hiking barefoot through the woods. And I feel fantastic.
• Bottom of my feet pressed against the plaster walls of the yoga studio as I try to become a human L bracket
• Peony petals, silky smooth against rough gardening fingers
• Gathering up armfuls of fluffy dry grass clippings

Hear:
• The tinkling of a piano inside a dimly lit barn
• A cat-like cry in the dark woods beyond our campfire
• Last week's storm approaching the house like a train hurtling towards us through the woods
• The roar of a borrowed lawnmower, finally the flower beds can rise up from a subdued green lawn