5.4.20 Picnic Lunch
And so I cut up three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and placed them neatly in tupperware. After a morning learning the difference between an alligator and crocodile, we were ready to spring into the glorious sunshine of the fourth of May. Just getting out the door was the biggest hurdle” Do you have your shoes on? Where is your helmet? Did you go potty before we leave? Where’s your jacket? You can finish that origami project when we get back!
There were workers at the church’s Sacred Garden so we rode and found a grassy knoll up from the street in the little park down the street. We could see all kinds of dog walkers coming and going as we spread out our blanket. It was one of those moments when you can’t help remarking numerous times on how beautiful it is outside and how very nice it is to be on a picnic together. “In the top 5” we all agreed of best picnics that we had ever put on. Little helicopters leaves spun to the ground as the winds took deep breath–the sky agreed with a sigh: this is just delightful.
I considered that I wouldn’t be sitting here if it weren’t for pandemic on a Monday afternoon. There were all the masks passing by. There was the closed Carriage House building with Lenten wreaths (!) still hanging.
And the Mama Duck, “Annie” that we had spied on last week was no where to be seen. We noticed the little divet of her nest in the mulch by the stone. There were small fluffy feathers lining the shallow hole. We hoped that Annie had hatched the eggs over the weekend before the torrential rain of last evening. We imagined the little goslings waddling to nearby Lake Kittamaqundi.
Before biking home, we revived our chalking. This time, decking the front steps with dots.
It was worth it–all the corraling to take crunch carrots over looking Vantage Point. It so often is worth all the nagging and reminding and nudging to get to the next activity. And I look for ways to be less impatient, more trusting that we will get to where we need to go. There is just so much joy to be had when we emerge. Like today, the wind kept calling with Sister Sun: come out and dine with me!