A ride in a horse drawn wagon at a nice summer festival. The fresh smell of laundry dried on the line. Upsetting the little Jenny wren cos I’m too close to her nest. (Her beautiful song turns into a raspy noise like the sound of a locust when you get too close to her babies.) Entering things into the competition at the local fair. Taking your basket to the garden to collect vegetables, cos there’s too much good stuff today to carry by hand. Coming in and finding a dried cucumber flower in your hair. Being able to enjoy it all.
Such good pleasures; some very simple but all so very important. If summer could last forever, but no, the cycle continues………..but there are no winter pleasures as good as those of the summer.