Tuesdays Are for Noticing #4

Tiny Joy Tuesday Series

The kitchen was humming with morning noise—kettle bubbling, chairs scraping, my son singing something tuneless but enthusiastic. We were all a little tired, but not in a bad way. Just soft around the edges.

Then the toast popped.

“Mum! The toast smells like camping!” he shouted, wide-eyed, like he’d just discovered fire.

And it did. That slightly smoky, comforting scent—like gum leaves crackling, damp socks drying near a fire, and hot tea in enamel mugs. It took me right back to bush mornings with fog still rising and birds just beginning their day.

I stood still, just for a moment, and let it settle over me.

There’s something about smell—how it opens a doorway in the day. One minute, you’re buttering toast. The next, you’re wrapped in memory, grounded in joy, breathing a little deeper.

Today, joy came in waves of toast-scented nostalgia.
And just like that, the morning felt warmer.