Simple pleasures. Sitting in a rocking chair. The gentle motion. Soothing. Calming emotions. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
The world seems gentler. No jarring. Restlessness finds relief. Breathing settles. Heartbeat returns to a peaceful pulse. A deep sigh escapes, not from distress, but a sense that for just this moment, time stands still and all is at rest.
There is something so precious about being enfolded in the arms of a rocking chair. Protected. Secure. Safe. A beverage by your side…sipping hot on a cooler day, or racing a determined sun that threatens to melt iced liquid on a warmer afternoon.
Senses seem more acute. The chirp of the cricket. The distant bark of a dog. Laughter. A wisp of hair tickles the forehead. An ant runs over a barefoot toe. I smile. Closing eyes. Inhaling slowly. Savouring summer’s scent, while tasting autumn’s approach.
I remember rocking my newborn son. The unmatched joy of motherhood. Seated in dressing gown. The early hours of the morning. A fresh-from-heaven precious bundle cradled in my arms. Humming. Quietly humming. Wanting these sacred seconds to be captured for all eternity. Serenity held while baby sleeps.