Bliss

There is a brand of chocolate called Bliss, which seems entirely appropriate to me. (Personally, I think chocolate should be covered by OHIP, as it is a (near) medical necessity for many people (ie. women) I know)

If you don't happen to have some blissful chocolate on hand, however, life does present happy moments, if you're tuned in to the proper frequency. One of those moments was presented to me on a silver platter last week, and if I try hard, I can rekindle the glow even now.

First of all, it was a Friday. Who doesn't glow a little on Friday? Friday comes with its own glow-inducing qualities, doesn't it? Then, I went for a drive in a very nice brand-new-satellite-radio-equipped vehicle into the wilds of another province to wander around a beautiful provincial park. I had to do this for work...I mean, I had to: I had no choice...it was my duty as a hardworking and responsible employee to undertake and complete this task to the best of my ability. So I squelched my reluctance and rallied my inner fortitude, left the office and went out into the big wide world which was (for once) bathed in bright, happy sunshine.

When I was growing up, my family often went camping. We had a trailer and would head out as often as possible, in every kind of weather, and most often to provincial or national parks. I remember so vividly the sounds, the smells...the very atmosphere of those parks. Even the colour scheme of the signage is so familiar to me, that seeing it again on this particular sun-kissed Friday was like a welcome home banner. It felt so good to be there, after far too long away.

Approaching our site, we saw a deer, so calm and untroubled by our presence there. As I climbed out of the car, there was the familiar sense of 'hush' as all sounds generated by the campground were muffled by the trees and centuries of wilderness dominance. Human activity has not left much of an imprint there. The very best moment of all came when I stepped into a patch of light in the clearing, circled by tall and venerable trees, and I could smell the pines and cedars, warmed by sun. That is happiness. That is carefree childhood: long days out of doors, multitudinous mosquito bites, dirty toes, and hot dogs flavoured with charcoal from the open fire served on plastic red plates that are melted a little on one side, all to the accompaniment of that wonderful scent of warm pines trees.

Bliss.