The bells chiming out the hour from the rather handsome church round the corner from our house. I find myself feeling cheated when the number of chimes is less than 7.
Our formerly indoor cat making his strange cackling meow at the massive pigeons on the fence, as though he knows he should make a noise but can’t decide what it should be.
Birdsong at the allotment, with a bass line of bees.
The chatter and clink of cups at the first coffee shop I’ve visited since February.
My own voice on a recording made for work. Do I sound like that? I had no idea. I certainly sound posher than I really am.
Bacon sizzling in the pan with onions and mushrooms.
My chair at the café. It was you’llery comfortable.