Sounds, sights and scents of Saturday

The rustle of heavy paws across the duvet accompanying a rapid tractor-strength purr. The quiet background chatter of the radio presenter cheerfully announcing the next generic track by another cloned singer desperate to be heard.

The murmurings of low conversation, an occasional scrape of a wooden chair against the floor, the clink of teaspoons stirring, slurping of hot chocolate followed by sounds of satisfaction. The heady scent of coffee and chocolate filling the air. Then the busy street filled noises of a rural market town as we return to the car.

The splash of a river bound dog hurling herself into the chilly water, the clink of selecting pebbles to skim. The audible gasp of minor triumph as we lark along the edge. The chinkle of pottery, glass and metal in my coat pocket as I walk. Not all worth keeping, litter will be dropped off in a bin.

A piercing whistle as we are observed by a robin - just an arm's reach away. Eldest's cellphone making electronic sounds as he takes the bird's photograph.

A sharp fragrance of fresh air, a tinge of bitter green and leaf mould circulating as we walk along the narrow path between a wild tanglement of hedge and old bulging stone wall.

Flashes of hope for spring with the tiniest leaf buds appearing on the hawthorn.

The crunch-thud of boots alongside the mill pond known as Sagar's Lake, coots craaking, mallards peeping and quacking. 

The sight of the woodburner crackling away warming us after our walk as we nurse mugs of tea and eat shortbread pigs.

The turn of a page of a recently charity shopped book, the distinctive scent of second hand novels. A strange and intriguing little story - odd yet enjoyable.

A whistling snore from an afternoon-nap-taking cat - who on gentle stroking - grunts a dozy meow followed by a brief attempted purr. 

Twitching paws and eyelid movements confirm a dreaming dog as she sleeps in front of the woodburner. Her tongue has escaped and occasionally curls and flaps as it dries to a crisp as she sleeps.

Saturday - you were wonderful xxx

PS and now (Monday)? well the constant metallic pitter of rain on the window, the wittering on the radio in the background, the sigh of a bored dog, the clack of the keys on my laptop and the curl of the fresh scent of tea.

💙🐾☔☕☔🐾💙