How to Be an Explorer, Elaboration 1

From here.

I had gotten this book (How to Be an Explorer of the World) a few months ago, tucked it away for a better day and found it again (on what must be that better day).

Ten things about where I'm sitting right now that I hadn't noticed when I sat down.

1. The speckled brown and yellow leaf on the tree outside, dead.
2. The sound and feel of air moving through the house with all its windows open is soothing, almost impossibly too beautiful.
3. The sound of water running in the sink.
4. How anticipation feels like wind through the trees.
5. Late day light and the pattern it makes of the window pane on the shade.
6. A cricket sounding, an insistent repetition running beneath these thoughts.
7. The smoothness of the round oak table where I am sitting.
8. The sound of keys pressing on a laptop and the hardness of the chair beneath me.
9. The comfort of repetition: ice cubes being dropped, as if they were on a conveyor belt, one after another after another.
10. The inevitable whining drone of a weekend warrior bringing tameness to a lawn.