Zest is defined as “keen interest or enjoyment, relish, gusto, piquancy.” I must admit, I’m not as “zesty” as I used to be. And that’s a sad thing. There is nothing better than being pulled forward by the sheer excitement of a plan, an experience, or an idea.
That kind of energy just doesn’t come my way as often as it used to. It seems harder all the time to drum up enthusiasm. That’s partly because I’m tired, and partly due to my age and experience. Things that can be really thrilling the first time around become somewhat commonplace after more than half a century. Some things, though, never get old:
- Sunrises and sunsets. Every day a double blessing.
- The view of Beaver Island’s good harbor as I drive past the church into town.
- The view of Beaver Island, on approach, from the deck of the ferry boat.
- My daughters. When I pick up the phone and hear either of their voices, my heart sings.
- Christmas: the memories, the traditions, the music.
- A good, baked macaroni and cheese.
- The colors of autumn.
- A perfect peach.
- Almost any movie starring Robin Williams, Tom Hanks, or Julia Roberts.
- Riding a bicycle.
- Any essay by E.B. White.
- The first snowfall.
- Perfume, especially Chanel #5, as that was my mother’s scent.
- Smooth, flat stones.
- A bookstore.
- A clear blue sky.
- The first cup of coffee in the morning.
- A new art project.
- A nicely scented candle.
- Warm summer nights.
- Rearranging the furniture.
- A new book arriving in the mail.
- A handwritten letter.
- Hot chocolate with whipped cream.
- A heartfelt “Thank You.”
- A fresh bouquet of flowers.
- Clean sheets fresh from the clothesline.
- A beautiful bar of soap.
- Messages from my grandchildren.
- A sky full of stars.
- Homemade bread, warm from the oven.
- A boat ride.
- A good song on the radio.
- New pencils.
- Fresh peas from the garden.
- A good bout of uncontrollable laughter.
- A new journal.
- A private joke shared with a friend.
- A pot of soup.
- A new skein of yarn.
- Games with my sisters.
- A stretch of beach.
- The moon.