The gentle contact between my shirt and the skin on my back.
They separate ever so slightly when I exhale.
The feeling of flesh against flesh
when I press my fingertips
into one another.
The slightly buzzing sound of silence interrupted only by
birds sending messages to one another,
a baby's wail,
and, of course, the occasional car.
The sound of the breeze
as it sweeps through the trees;
this restless energy
bustling inside of me.
I notice everything.
I notice it all.
And I am content
when I just watch.