Chelsea Schermerhorn

I like books of all sorts, old and new, I love it when the words of a book draw pictures in my mind, I love movies of all genres except horror, learning about all things, including history, pop culture, ancient cultures, and people of all variations; I love the smell of a new spring morning, the smell of a library containg many old books, the smell of a fresh spring rain, a forest after rain, or of a pink rose with the dew of the morning still present on the delicate petals; I love the sound of a sermon teaching a congregation of the nature of God, the sound of a group of people praising God with one voice in song, the sound of a baby's laughter, the sound of a heavy rain pattering on the ground, the sound of a poem as it flows into speech, the sound of birds chattering and announcing the new day (as long as im not still asleep), the sound of a kitten's soft purr as you hold it in your arms, the sound of music as it moves from note to note and forms a melody, the sound of a pen scratching on paper bringing a story to life, and the sound of silence as my mind tears away at new ideas; I love the taste of chocolate lingering on my tongue, the taste of fresh garden vegetables, the taste of herbs and spices from a small garden; I love the feeling of a soft fleece blanket, of freshly laundered bed clothes, of any type of silk, of the fur of a tiny fluffy kitten, of a baby's skin, of a pen or pencil in my hand scratching away at paper putting my ideas into words only i can express, and of water in a lake river ocean or pool flowing around me as I relax in its tranquility ; I love the feeling of waking up early after a good night's sleep ready to take on a new day, of waking up after a good dream and wishing it were real, of an accomplishment I made on my own, and of the love of my friends and family; I like to see the smiling faces of people as they brighten up the day with their joy, the mixture of colors and textures in a picture or painting, of the gray mist of dawn and the gray moisture as it falls from the heavens as rain of water as it glistens in light, of a forest with the budding greens and browns of spring, and of words whether typed or handwritten scrawled on a page telling a story.