The wilder extremes of happiness

I fluctuate madly, between wanting more, bigger, better, to finding it extraordinary that anyone would want to live in a mansion, holiday in the Caribbean, or buy McQueen dresses. I fear that the former is nearer my natural state, but when when I'm in contentment mode, there's no better feeling.
The sun came out on Saturday morning. I dropped Alfie at a party, and Notty at riding, then set off for the high downs. The tracks was drying out, and the sky was blemish-free. Early snowdrops lined the verges, buzzards soared overhead. I walked along the skyline, Ethi bounding by my side, and I felt pure happiness. The air smelled sweet, and from the top, I could see for miles. I've realised, in the last few years, that it is this that makes my heart sing; unspoilt, unfettered nature, big landscapes and quiet. After an infusion of this, everything seems better.
I spent most of the rest of the day cooking and cleaning and, uncharacteristically, I enjoyed it. Mark was building his greenhouse at the end of the garden, while I made rhubarb tart and listened to Any Questions. I polished the table, mopped the floor, cleared away most of the flotsam of undone admin and by the time the children came home, it was a haven.
We had some friends around for dinner. We lit candles, stoked up both fires, decanted red wine (organic) into old ships' decanters, Christmas presents from ten years ago, and never before used. I roasted a whole fillet of steak we'd been given by our organic farmer friends - in exchange for lending them our tents - which we ate with their veg. And our house felt, briefly, perfect. I found myself asking why on earth anyone would want a bigger house, or faster car?
It's crept up on me, this readjustment of ambitions and values. It is as if I have spent the last 40 years getting things, taking, and now I want to give it away. I want to put something back in, make a difference. I guess you can call it a midlife crisis. It's the how that's now the question.
But until I figure that out, I must grab onto that feeling from last night, and when wanting threatens to overwhelm me, just light a few candles and crack open the wine.