As in employing all the senses.
First, when I was ready to go outside for the first time right after sunrise, I wondered what the temperature outside would be. Last night it rained, and I didn’t know if I needed a sleeve or not. Touched the glass on the back door and quickly determined, yep, it was chilly outside.
I’m not sure how cool it was, but it was humid and cool enough to make my nose slightly numb after a brisk walk. I’d guess around 40. (Looked at the weather site to confirm and it said 38*F, so I was close).
One of the first sounds I heard this morning was an eagle somewhere in the sky. I couldn’t find it, but the sound is unmistakable, and they are here for the winter. The usual birdsong at dawn filled the air, but soon the jays dominated my auditory channel until a pack of coyotes on the hill broke the cadence with their yippling noises.
On the way back up the hill after finding the mullein I heard a flock of geese approaching, so I stopped to watch them. Their white undersides flashed in the sun when they suddenly switched directions and headed due south rather than the easterly they were on previously.
Speaking of finding the mullein, the sensory experience there was that of rose brambles clinging in a desperate attempt to hold me close to them. Their digging thorns would have been painful were I not dressed for the task.
As I pulled the velvety mullein leaves from their tap-root stalks, I breathed in the pleasant smell associated only with that plant and no other. It is a verdant odor, mingled with humus and microscopic life.
By the time I made it back to the house, distinctly aware of the blood pumping through my veins, I acknowledged that life was good today.