Our last two weekends have been very full, leaving me little time to write about what we’ve been up to. So, in place of thousands of words, I will share some pictures, which I hear are equal in value. These are from a couple Labor Day weekend picnics Lovey and I shared.
I’m not positive, but I think this might be ragweed. It was growing where we had our “American picnic,” documented below.
The menu consisted of BLTs made with a friend’s garden-fresh tomatoes; salt and pepper potato chips; southern sweet tea…
…and homemade salted caramel sauce with apple slices. (The sauce is runny because the day was hot. Indoors the sauce consistency is perfecto.)
For our French picnic, the setting and menu were a bit different. We drank wine instead of tea, because, obviously…it’s the French thing to do. Actually this might have been an Italian wine. It’s our favorite: Moscato d’Asti. We sat in the shade of a huge willow…
…and ate artisan bread with herbed chevre, cheese and bell pepper omelets, and grapes.
Lovey read a book.
I took a nap.
That’s what I saw when I woke up: a gorgeous blue sky full of clouds pushed aside by the same warm wind that swayed the grass. Sometimes a literal perspective change does good for my eyes and my soul. I remember that there are places, in body and spirit, from which the world looks very different. How huge does a blade of grass seem to a beetle? How small does a man seem in the shadow of an old tree? How lavish does the wildflower field appear to the lover, and yet how choked with weeds does it appear to one whose love is lost?
My eyes tend to take in one view. My experience tends to translate out one meaning from what I read in my environment. But sometimes it’s pleasant to lie on a quilt in afternoon quiet, actually seeing, and then remembering, that there are many ways to look at the world.