So, the question: what is my notion of bliss?

Bliss is that feeling you get when you pitch a tent after a long-day's paddle, fire up the camp stove to cook a freeze-dried bag of soup, and maybe even add some found goodies.

It's staying awake to hear the patter of rain on the tent, and then waking up to a crisp morning to the sound of a bird's serenade (corny sentiment you may think, but it did happen to me once).

Bliss is removing that heavy pack after an excruciating and exhilarating hike up the side of a mountain, finding a place to sit and marvel at the distance you've made.

I'll imagine being stuck in the blizzard of the century, inside a tent and a warm sleeping bag, hearing nothing but the wind shifting and snow scratching the tent. I've not experienced this yet, but I imagine it is hellishly blissful.

Bliss is coming home after a regularly difficult day, sharing a chat, a bottle of wine and cooking a fantastic meal. It's not the weekend, but why relegate bliss to the weekend only.

There's much more to write on this, with many forms of bliss, and some forms I am blissfully unaware. Maybe you can enlighten.