A well played hollow-bodied electric guitar arpeggio'd with the right amount of treble and chorus. It's a sound I hope embraces me as I encounter heaven. ~R~

Seeing a mannerism, a phrase, an echo of my father - gone for 13 years now - in one of my sons, who barely remember him.

Any live symphony orchestra.
Cloud formations that defy all manner of reason.
The smile on my grand daughter's face when she first wakes up from a nap.
Unusual sounds in the dark.

Am leaving the door to Open Salon's Back Pages open for anyone who cares to answer this ---and will be working on some other projects for the next few days---so I'll say thank you right now to anyone who stops by and speaks of something, anything good that takes their breath away--- something that amazes just you.

Who knows? Maybe what you say will inspire someone else to find what amazes them.

what she sings: love, the *most* powerful emotion; stronger than fear or hate. whether it's for my lover or my child or her child or a friend, it's the best feeling -- the most feeling -- i ever have, ever will have.

My daughter every time I see her. The life that flows out of her. The compassion for all things living and the joy that she has never lost.

1. My sons' laughter...as tots, kids, teens and today, as grown men...now my small grandguys' laughter has the same effect...

2. Those frequently increasing light-bulb moments when I suddenly realize that every person, situation and circumstance showed up exactly when and how they were intended to do so, and played exactly the role they were meant to play, in enriching my own ongoing life-saga...

Last week, I was returning from the airport where we dropped Victor to begin his own flight. As I wound down around the on-ramp to the interstate, a great blue heron simply sailed right in front of my windshield, close enough that his wingtip may have grazed the hood.
Then, Saturday, my daughter was treated to a couple of lovely sights as we whizzed down the interstate; a cooper's hawk was roosting in a tree on the opposite side from us, his white belly easily visible against the remaining foliage. Later, a red-tailed hawk swoop across the highway in front of us like a fighter plane strafing an enemy encampment.

Those are the kind of things that take my breath away. But most often, it is the brush of my wife's lips against mine. :-D

An amazing song, an unexpected vista, an aha moment, inspiration, and, of course, love.

I was outside on Lake Michigan today.

That took my breath away.

If I am really lucky, something takes my breath away every day. Or maybe just every other day. It's the magic that stops me in my tracks....a sunset, a sunrise, a black bear eating fruit on my path, a lone wolf howling in the night, the moon still in the sky at 6AM, the first snow, a smile, a laugh, a song, pick one...there are too many to count. Namaste.

Beautiful song.. What takes my breath away? The moment when I got to hold both of my girls, after they came into this world. The moment I got to hold my oldest grandson just minutes after coming into the world. The moment of being able to watch my youngest grandson coming in to the world, hearing his first cry; what an amazing and incredible thing to witness, being able to hold him seconds after birth. Knowing that deep in your heart you were the were all part of making those four miracles happen.
** Freshly fallin' rain, the first snow fall and the silences of the earth after both of them, freshness in the air; it is so breath taking and captivating.
Great post!! Thank you

Fran, a friend since grammar school, and I rode the bike path from Super Dawg to the Botanical garden. We inadvertently separated a doe from her fawn. I wordlessly turned my bike around and motioned for Fran to do the same. We both had our backs between mother and child, making it safe for the fawn to follow the mother. It seemed a miracle of life.
Fifteen years later three old friends and I were at Fran's bedside where she was being treated for a complication of breast cancer. We laughed ourselves silly and disguised our tears in the laughter. In three weeks Fran was dead and we survivors had that last ring of her laughter to remember. It was a miracle of laughter.

My littlest grandson, Markey, when he looks up at me with his 3-year-old grin, and says, "Am I in trouble, Grammy?"

My Yorkie pup, Pucci, who loves me unconditionally, and lets me know it with a lick and a paw.

The first Spring flowers, Snow Drops, coming up through the snow.

And the Statue of Liberty -- seen from the ferry -- reminding me that we're still free.

The Grand Canyon takes my breath away. It is a spiritual experience.

It IS that special surprise, so unexpected, so one of a kind ... often transmitted by nature, like a sunset or one of those birds that Bill S. describes in his comment(and by the way, Bill, did it ever occur to you that you were under attack?). Yes, nature with it's sudden displays of beauty and power.

Others are often transmitted by the ones we love like our children and grandchildren and for some, our parents ... a special hug, or unexpected gift, or a particularly proud moment; say a daughter decked out for her first prom: breathless.

And then there are those moments captured only in the love ... the erotic love ... of a special partner; a gentle touch that gives you chills, the tender touching, their of lips to yours, a hand or fingers exploring erogeny, or the moment of sensual explosion ... all of those ... maybe even just seeing her (or him) on a concourse returning from a trip; all of those things can take your breath away. All of them have taken mine. And it is for those moments that we endure. ~R~

So many things! The colored rocks of the Southwest, Mozart's Clarinet Quintet, the hush before dawn, a butterfly on a flower, some OSers (!), stumbling onto a waterfall while walking in the woods, the thought of my good fortune in having met Mrs. P.

The realization that I was loved for 30 years. Now my breath is taken when I catch myself thinking he will come through the door...and then I realize he doesn't need to, he is already in my heart.

The smile on my granddaughter's face when she first glimpses me after being away for awhile.

Well, the song "Take My Breath Away" from the Top Gun movie definitely does not take my breath away, just my appetite. I'll be the first to testify that Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in concert still takes my breath away; this might explain why I'm breathless after every show (81 and counting!).

I've tried to think of something fresh and warm enough to express — a child giggling or a sunset, or... but sadly, it's been a long time since it happened to me. I envy those who can experience the feeling.

Well, I could be poetic and original, but I can't be. It's my daughter's face when she is absorbed in something. Or thinking. She is just beautiful and miraculous to me.

Also, when I see someone in a crowd who looks like my mother, who died over 25 years ago. It still happens, and it is startling.

Old Faithful gushing,
Michael Jackson dancing,
Mohammed Ali in his prime,
Obama loping towards the podium.

right now, a certain someone. and it is very disconcerting

Today, because I back to writing, reading other writing and commenting, networking and catching up with an old friend via the nets, I revisited the post I wrote on my personal blog last December after my brother's death. It took my breath away. It's still raw; i can't believe how raw.

http://midriffmuse.com/?p=75

The feel of my husband wrapping his sleepy arms around me in bed. The way my cat purrs when she curls up in my lap. The love in my mom's eyes when she gazes at my father (still!). The sight of my two horses, running across their pasture to greet me.

Being wakened by silver moonlight, as the heavenly body passes by my window, illuminating my dear love's face...a vision in silver...

Martha. Morning highlighting natural beauty. The works of Henri Matisse. John Coltrane's phrasing. Miles Davis' tone. The Tao of Heaven. The Tao of Humanity.