the smell of Ian's homemade bread warming the kitchen and making my mouth water.
the smell of a compost heap when it is ready for use, earthy and strong but pleasant, the smell of life.
the smell of a baby's head, milky and sweet.
the smell of sweetpeas, faint and evocative, catching the heart unawares.
the smell of a wood fire when the woodburner is being lit and I am outdoors, promising warmth and comfort inside.
the sound of running streams on the hillside.
the sound of Ian's key in the door (back when we lived somewhere where the door was locked!).
the sound of silence, followed by the distant sounds of the valley emerging, sheep far away on the other side, a tractor moving, birds coming and going, bustle not silence at all.
the sound of my chickens clucking and busying themselves contentendly in the garden.
the sound of a cork coming out of a bottle of wine.
I could go on and on!