Delight

Pictures of delight: the bright green chameleon who lives near my fountain as he thrusts his red bib out for the world to see, the group of young people who are joyfully wake-boarding in the creek, the older man on the jet ski who is making splashing circles in the turn basin, the red-winged blackbird that is eating from our bird feeder and his mottled brown mate who likes the seed we put out for the finches, my smaller cat with his head tucked between his front legs asleep on the sunroom sofa, the flag on the back of the boat as it flutters in the breeze, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with milk and then some dark chocolate.

Sounds of delight: the fireworks that the young people shot off from the back of the boat, the purrs of my cat, the snores of my friend who is napping, the clink of glasses in the dishwasher (thank God for dishwashers), the gentle hum of the ceiling fan, the fountain as it pumps water over the rocks and splashing down into the small pool, the happy twitter of finches.

Smells of delight: the bittersweet coffee smell as the chocolate melts in my mouth, the embracing scent of my jasmine bush, the heat smell from the porch in the sun.

All these I have right now. It is enough.