I’ve read that as you grow older, taste buds die. Food doesn’t taste as good as it used to when you were younger.
And statistics tell me other senses grow weaker, also.
So maybe that’s why my sense of wonder and amazement isn’t what it used to be. The evening news has left me jaded, I guess.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy and content when riding my horse through the countryside, or when I spend time back at the cabin. Or anytime Cliff and I are together with no worries on the horizon.
But the keen feeling of happiness-so-sharp-it-almost-hurts isn’t there any more.
I miss that.
It all comes back to me, though, when I watch the two dogs running and playing. They haven’t lost it, and I envy them their freedom from worry.
I see it in the eyes of children, amazed by a summer storm.
When my Jersey heifer runs and kicks up her heels playing at my approach, I vaguely remember what it was like to be a child.
It isn’t that I’m unhappy; it’s just that happiness isn’t as sharp a feeling as it used to be.
Enjoy it, youngsters, while you can.