|Photo by my mother, Glenda Quiring|
It's coming home. It's the smell of freshly baked bread, or cookies baking in the oven, or soup simmering on the stove. It's easing into your favourite armchair at the end of a long, hard day's work. It's the feel of sliding into crisp, clean sheets the first night after they were changed. It's curling up under a warm, thick quilt to fall asleep.
It's slipping into well-worn jeans. It's wearing comfy clothes on the weekend. It's putting on soft, fuzzy pajamas and cozy slippers before bed. It's splashing and jumping into puddles in your gumboots on a rainy afternoon. It's walking on new grass with bare feet, and digging toes into warm, brown earth.
It's making mud pies and play-eating them with your siblings. It's planting bright flowers in colourful pots. It's pressing small seeds into the ground and waiting to watch them grow. It's playing tag, hide-and-seek, or sardines in your backyard in the evening twilight.
It's the relief of entering a building with air conditioning on a humid August day. The warmth of coming inside after enjoying the cold, wet snow in winter. The special family meals on holidays. The snow finally melting, and green spring grass sprouting again. The leaves morphing into glorious oranges, browns, and golds in autumn. It's watching the day fade into night, the dazzling colours of the sunset, the promise of a new sunrise tomorrow.
It's the crash of ocean waves hitting the shore. The gulls' familiar cawing overhead. It's the quiet of mid-afternoon in a sleepy little town. The gentle buzzing of a busy bumblebee moving between blossoms in the community garden. It's the ripples on a mountain lake. The call of a loon in the evening. It's the stillness of night. The twinkling of heavenly stars shining down.
It's the sip of hot chocolate sliding down your throat, instantly warming you from inside out. The first bite of your favourite dish. The juicy crunch of fresh fruit just picked off the tree. The cool glass of water on a hot summer day.
It's cuddling a kitten or being chased by a puppy. It's petting a cat or taking a dog for a walk. It's watching a powerful horse gallop across a pasture. It's hearing the honks of Canada Geese as they fly overhead.
It's the lilt of a fiddle piece. The strum of a guitar. It's the sweet clear soprano voice or the deep rumblings of a bass. It's the lyrical piano solo. The strains of a familiar old hymn being played on the organ.
It's entering your place of worship, feeling reverent and awed. It's kneeling beside your bed, knowing the God of the universe is listening to what you say. It's an answer to earnest prayer. It's witnessing a miracle and knowing others can happen, too.
It's laughing with your friends while eating out, or playing board games, or watching a movie. It's working together to accomplish a common goal. It's having deep talks with a person you trust, a person who knows you almost as well as you know yourself.
It's a baby falling asleep in his mother's arms after nursing. A child drifting off knowing her parents are in the next room. It's riding on Daddy's strong shoulders or jumping into his arms from the side of the pool. It's a Band-Aid on a cut finger. A tight embrace after a heartbreak or the loss of someone you love.
It's having a child wrap their arms around you. It's a healing talk after a fight with your teenager. It's watching your offspring leave the nest and knowing they'll make it on their own because you've trained them well. It's holding grandchildren for the first time. It's grown-children bringing their own children to visit you in the nursing home.
It's snuggling with the person you love. It's visiting with an old friend. It's seeing someone you've been missing for a long time. It's the sight of a beloved place. It's returning from a long trip away and coming―
--------------------My musings on the prompt 'comfort' for Five Minute Friday. Join in next week if you feel inspired!