Last week I wrote about finding joy at home, in the silly games, the rituals and the moments of connection. This time I'm stepping outside the front door, to the sights, sounds, smells and tastes we pass every day and hardly notice.

Why the small stuff counts

It's easy to save joy for the big occasions: holidays, birthdays, Christmas morning. Those are wonderful, but they're a handful of days a year. Most of life happens on ordinary days. If we only feel joy on the big ones, we miss most of it.

I'm trying to treat ordinary days as something to notice, rather than just something to get through. Most of the time it doesn't take any extra effort, only paying a bit more attention to what's already there.

Wind in the trees and a view that stays with you

Some of my favourite moments are the quietest ones. I'll be out for a walk, phone in my pocket, when the wind moves through the trees and everything else goes still for a second. It's a sound you can only really hear if you stop to listen. And at this time of year there's the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot on the way home from the school run, one of my favourite sounds of the whole year.

Then there's the view across the reservoir at Aldenham Country Park, where I spent so many evenings as a child: water, trees and big open sky, with the light softening as the day winds down. It's a view that has stayed with me ever since, proof that the simplest places can stay with you for life.

Sunrises, sunsets and the drive home

I have a real soft spot for the sky at either end of the day.

One of my favourite journeys is the drive back to Hitchin from my parents'. The children are sleepy in the back, it's quiet at last, and the sun is setting over the fields. I love seeing what the farmers are growing this year and watching the colours change as we go, from gold to pink, then a deep orange, then dusk.

Autumn is generous with sunrises, too. Now that the mornings are later, we usually watch the sky change from the breakfast table, toast in hand, naming every colour we can see as it shifts from inky blue to pink, peach and gold. It's a tiny ritual, and one of my favourite ways to start the day.

Tastes worth slowing down for

Food is one of the easiest places to find everyday joy, especially when it's something new.

There's the buzz of trying a new restaurant or queuing at a local independent street food stall, where the smells reach you long before you reach the front. There are the conversations around the table, and the way a really good meal makes everyone slow down.

What I've come to love most is tasting the hard work behind something. Take the croissants from Flour21 at Hitchin Market. You can taste the early start, the layers of butter and patience, and the care that goes into every one. When you notice that, an ordinary market-day treat becomes something to savour.

The joy of trying something new

Learning something new or trying something different brings its own kind of joy, and it doesn't have to be anything big. It might be a new autumn flavour (butternut squash and sage soup, anyone?). Or it might be something altogether bolder, like hitting pause on a career to launch a business. But let's save that story for another day!

Being a beginner can feel a bit awkward, but there's a spark in it as well: the first time something clicks, or the moment you realise you can do something you couldn't do last month.

It's a good reminder that joy isn't only found. Sometimes you make it, by saying yes to something unfamiliar.

A noticing game to try with your little ones

Children are naturally brilliant noticers. They'll stop for a snail, a puddle or an oddly shaped leaf while we're busy hurrying them along. So rather than rushing past, why not turn noticing into a game?

On your next walk, school run or trip to the shops, take it in turns to find:

  • One thing you can see that's a colour you love
  • One thing you can hear, whether that's birds, wind, traffic or a dog barking
  • One thing you can smell: leaves, rain, bonfires, something cooking
  • One thing you can touch, like bark, a conker or a cold railing
  • One thing that made you smile

It takes a few minutes, it works anywhere, and it's surprising how much it changes the feel of an ordinary outing, for them and for you.

Then bring it home into bath time. Ask what they spotted today while the water turns pink or blue or green, and they're fizzing, splashing and noticing all over again. Bath time is a sensory moment in its own right: colour, scent, warmth and bubbles, all in one tub. (If you'd like more on that, More Than Just Bubbles is all about it.)

One small question to take with you

What's one small thing you noticed today?

If nothing springs to mind, that's fine. Tomorrow's another ordinary day, full of things to notice.