A meadowlark’s singing on a fence in the stillness of a sun setting

Hearing Sam pull into the circle drive on the ATV

Anjalie’s laugh, Lori K’s laugh, Katrina’s laugh

Crinkling = the crinkle of a new sheet of aluminum foil, or gift wrap tissue paper being stuffed into a bag, or a new bag of Lay’s being opened, or a pile of brown leaves as I step on them, or the long, white, slender pharmacy sack that holds relief and healing inside

The contented purring that lets me know they like me and want my love

“I’m okay but I’ll get over it.” – Dad

Chris Botti’s trumpet that just puts me in a mood

Children squealing and laughing across the street at the park while I sit at my desk in the silence of a big house

The boom of the cannon heard all over town when our high school football team scores, as long as I am home and not in the stands where it startles me every time even though I expect it

“Ca’mone, ca’mone” – my sister during a ballgame

A perfectly tuned piano

The sweet thump when patting a baby’s diaper

Voices of Resurrection and Brooklyn Tabernacle choirs

“Ama, I’m YOUR kid!” – Ande and Anjalie

The pops and crackles of a really nice fire in the fireplace

Ripe wheat stalks being blown in the breeze

Cheryl Jefferson Bell’s prayers

Windchimes, deep and low

“Home again, home again, ziggity zag.” – Sam, as we pull into the driveway

Leaves skittering down the street