Watching a truly funny or thoughtful (or both) movie or TV show - the kind that either makes you fall over laughing or makes you go "wow"... a dish of cold ice cream on a hot day... a cup of hot coffee or tea on a cold day... coming upon a work of art or other form of creativity that stops me in my tracks... coming upon something in nature that stops me in my tracks... an awesome meal with a good friend... an awesome conversation with a good friend... accomplishing at least one small challenging thing each day... getting involved in a creative project... wicked humor... having a day - or even an afternoon, or even an hour - with little or no physical pain... a good night's sleep...

craft beer, good whiskey; which i have in front of me right now. and pizza which we'll be having shortly.

Being outside. Smelling the ocean & watching the waves roll in. Having one of my pups on my lap. Giving my pony a hug and inhaling that wonderful horse perfume. Talking to my dad. And all of the things you wrote - but I do have a problem remembering to cut my roses, I like to walk by & smell the roses....

It's not a small pleasure, but it's a rare and simple thing: Whenever a feeling of calm washes over me.

Being greeted by my dogs.
When my bluenose gives a full-throated howl.
The smell of my fingers after pinching a bud.
Sunset clouds lighting the scene pink and purple.
Unloading new photographs that are sharply focused.
Whenever my lady gives me a hug from behind.

I love all of your replies! Heartwarming.

Finding a highly religious person reveling to them that I am agnostic. Then I watch them and let them think that they are morally superior then slowly watch them devolve into the scourge that they really are. More of a hobby than a past time.

The touch and loves I give and get from my animals. The warmth of sunlight. The new leaves from my pine trees. The love people share online.

Lily's sugar-free chocolate. Mmmmmmm....

Wonderful

I must go down to the woods again, to the lonely trees and the sky,
And all I ask is the tall trees and the moon to see paths by;
And the saplings whip and the wind’s song and the broad leaves shaking,
And a grey mist across a grassy knoll, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the woods again, for the call of the running hind
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a breezy day with the white clouds flying,
And the foxes play and the badgers hide, and the owl eerily crying.

I must go down to the woods again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the buzzards way and the doves way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when this long trick’s over.