I’ll admit I’m one of those social media users. You know the type. They perpetually Tweet, Instagram or Facebook pictures of a bonfire, glowing candle, or their latest hot beverage.

Like my fellow autumnites, I’m in love with the idea that is fall. 

Walking from the garage to my house, I can always smell when my neighbor has a fire burning in his woodstove. Of course candles always make my Christmas list.

But I must say nothing smells better than waking up to a pot of coffee on an auto timer. The timer on the coffee pot is set one minute before my alarm clock sounds. As I pass through the living room into the kitchen, I take a couple dozen steps making it to that first cup of steaming hot, caffeinated glory.

If this were my perfect fall day, I would make my way back into the living room, snuggle up on the couch while Jay builds a fire. While his hands arrange the logs and kindling, mine open my study Bible and let the thin pages glide under my figures as I open to scripture of the morning.

Books, like coffee, send me into a multi-dimensional sensory experience.  The weight of each book starts the story; the smell of the volume speaks to its life-span. The oldest books have lived a full life, sometimes going through numerous hands. The newest smell crisp, full of hope and potential.

If someone made an “old bookstore” scented candle, I’d start a stockpile. As it is, I resign myself to visiting the library whenever I need a fix.

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Life is busy and very few go down the way I’ve described. Sometimes the best I can hope for is to savor the smell of the dishwashing liquid which promises to be gentle on my seasonally dry hands. As I attend my large, non-stick, or otherwise high maintenance cookware, the dishwasher swishes water onto the plates and cups entrusted to its care.

When life gets hectic, laundry is done on a step-by-step basis. I throw a load in the wash before work, then transfer it to the dryer before falling into bed. The gentle clack-clack of buttons and zippers as they tumble serves as a gentle lullaby.

But every so often the stars align and I get to fall asleep to the sounds of nature. If the outside temperature is temperate, if my allergies aren’t flaring, the sky has released enough rainfall, and the neighborhood bear hasn’t made an appearance recently, I will sleep with the door open.

The faux French portal opens to a setting to rival The Shire. Within 20 feet of my porch, a creek flows through the front yard. The neighbor’s pond lies in the back drop. As the water flows over the rocks, its cascade serves as a real life white noise machine.

The sound of the creek rushing outside is better than Xanax at calming my nerves. And as a RX carrying anxiety sufferer, these are not words I use lightly.

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How does one even begin to compliment the Maker of the universe, but He made nature inexplicably tranquil. Whether it be the sound of the howling wind, the smell of a canopy of pines, or views which stretch for miles – when He decides to engage my senses, words just can’t encompass His glory.

What are your favorite smells and sounds of the season? 

How does He best show you His majesty?

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