The moment came unexpectedly. I was making a favorite recipe for beet salad. I roasted and cooled three beets, careful not to make an undue mess on my countertop for fear I’d inadvertently dye everything deep red, almost purple, in the process.

I sliced up the beets and added olive oil and found the plastic container of pine nuts the recipe called for. I peeled the navel orange, marveling at how tenaciously the flesh of the fruit clung on to its tough skin. Then I cut up pieces of the fruit on my bamboo cutting board and added half of the sticky orange pieces to my bowl of lightly oiled beet slices. I guessed at the proportions.

I gathered up a few of the remaining pieces of orange from the cutting board and quickly popped them in my mouth.

OMG – the word JUICY doesn’t even come close to describing the explosion of flavor. I could only think that the sensation made my mouth happy and that having such a surprise, such a sensory experience made all of me happy.

My mother never kept fruit around the house as I was growing up. My friend Laura Lee couldn’t imagine growing up in a home without fruit. She used to ask me jokingly, “What’s the matter? Was your mom attacked by an apple when she was young?” But it was true. I barely knew what fresh fruit tasted like until I was in my thirties.

So what brought on this moment of rolling my eyes under closed lids and smiling to myself?

Because I was relatively unfamiliar with the flavor, could it be likened to a first-time experience and the powerful impression one makes? Was I struck by the completeness of the moment? The air in my kitchen was infused with the sweet scent of the freshly peeled fruit.

I let myself be led by my impulse to abandon attempts at neatness. With no one looking, I ran my fingers over my cutting board, gathered a collection of dripping orange pieces and transported them into my mouth.

I contemplated my immediate reaction. Tasting the orange-ness explode in my mouth was about more than enjoying a pleasant flavor.

The experience was JUICY.

The feeling was like re-discovering painting after a long time away from holding a brush or finding someone so unexpectedly appealing that you can’t help but walk lighter and faster since he or she started to inhabit your thoughts.

JUICY is when you feel alive.

Winter has special moments, but of late, I’ve felt oppressed by the dryness of heated rooms or numbed by wearing quilted coats that make me move like the cartoon mascot Michelin Tire Man. I’ve felt contracted by the fear of slipping on ice or the idea that my car might get stuck somewhere.

The flavor, getting my hands dirty, the smell of something from a summertime climate – was just what I needed.

Feeling alive from a few bits of fruit is no small thing.