10.09 am, Tuesday 15th of April
Sun on face. Eyelids closed. Seeing red. Literally.
My bench was taken so I sat on my market bag on the best patch of (slightly damp) grass I could find.
Seat in sight just incase.
Should start calling this my Tuesday morning meeting instead of ritual.
Sun heating one ear, need to turn my head. It’s so nice I lied down.
Really starting to feel like autumn now.
The trees are dropping their leaves, some are still green.
On the walk to the cafe I noticed how beautiful the street was in autumn mode (probably not for the first time.)
2016 feels significant for this:
Living on Royal Parade, walking underneath oak trees into the city each day to work.
I’d always wanted to be able to walk to work, was this the first time I’d actively begun to notice?
Someone asked me the other day if I’d always been one to ‘smell the roses’.
They meant it literally as I paused to admire and breathe in their scent.
It is a learned practice I think.
A practice of patience.
A practice of noticing.
A practice of timing and time itself.
I’ve been trying to learn more names of flowers lately. It makes me feel connected to my family. Some names come almost intuitively, not sure when or how I know them, almost a forgotten language.
A new set of oil pastels to draw the flowers I see. A book I found in an op shop years ago. Printed in the 70’s. Its layout and colours pleasing to the eye. Learning more names, connecting back to things I see on walks.
***
9.08am, Wednesday 16th of April
There’s a running list of things related to the senses in my google doc.
To find a way outside the box. To notice (always).
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