The Heartbeat of My Home

I do media relations for a photography client who leads photo safaris through Africa. The amazing itinerary allows photographers to “feel” Africa’s heartbeat.

I don’t know if I will ever get to travel to Africa and “feel” her heartbeat. However, on a daily basis, I love walking around my community while wearing my daughter in a sling. (It’s a very relaxing way to get her to take a nap.)

Along the way, I get to listen to the “heartbeat” of my home. Here’s what makes it tick.

Heel, toe tapping of my shoe on the sidewalk.
Swish of my shoe when I don’t pick my foot up completely.
Wet, sloppy, sucking of my daughter’s hand in her mouth.

Tinka, tink, tink of small wind chimes.
Clocka-clocka of the more hollow, wooden wind chimes.
There’s even a large, heavy wind chime that stops me in my tracks because it sounds like beautiful church bells.

“Higher Daddy!” squeals the little girl in the swing.

The sweet perfume of my neighbor’s healthy, expansive rose bushes.

A giggling 7-year old chases his mom.

A curious black cat peering out from the banisters on his balcony.

A husband talking about his wife, “She gets morning sickness in the evening. She’s three months along now.”

Trees against the Western sky at sunset that look like giant, black bonsai trees.

Amber, sapphire and diamond solar “gems” lighting the walkways to homeowner’s kingdoms.

Pink hand prints climbing the rock wall. A container of pink paint spilled down below.

Bright green bushes that seem to glow and attract elegant, dancing butterflies.
I look down and the sounds of both mine and our community’s heartbeat have lulled my daughter to sleep. Come on sweetness, we’re going home.

This is for the April writing contest at Scribbit blog. The theme is "Going Home." You should enter!

This essay won an Honorable Mention in the writing contest from Scribbit Blog. Woo hoo!