I love the smell of vanilla. That warm, heady scent full of sweetness and promises of rest. The scent of vanilla forces you to slow down in a way that the smell of flowers doesn’t. Flowers will make you smile; vanilla makes you stop. You have to stop and savor it, like the taste of thick, creamy hot chocolate as it flows over your tongue. That moment when you close your eyes and allow time to slow down just a little bit so the moment can last a little longer. That’s the smell of vanilla.
I love my knitted blanket. Colorful yarn sporting pinks and purples woven carefully with love and care. It’s not a perfect square – there is a section that looks as though some stitches were lost. The yarn looks like it changes halfway through; the color sequence is muted before it returns to its bright and youthful hues. The holes are quite large, not the best protection against a cold draft. But it is warm and heavy, as secure as a loving embrace. A reminder that I’m loved, and the woman who made it for me.
Large, knitted scarves.
Over-sized woolen sweaters.
Piles of pillows.
I love to swim. The closest one can get to flying, no doubt. The freedom in feeling weightless, and the joy in seeing a sunny sky above and friends around you. The waves are my friends, the water’s embrace is loving. Though I particularly love the silence beneath the surface, the way everything above disappears for a moment for as long as you’re able to hold your breath.