I’m sitting in my yard on a cool evening, a thin strip of sun slowly sinking over the horizon line. My roommate and I have set a picnic out on my thickly woven, cotton rope blanket. My prim little setup of glasses, plates, napkins, kombucha, flowers, and all of the little finger foods is almost too precious to dive into.
Logan swings home on his bike as the sun finally dips away and the sky goes ambient blue. He sits on my blanket. Stares at the setup. Looks to me to silently check in that I don’t need to keep things as they are for photos. Then grabs a falafel burger, stretches out, and gets comfy.
Angel dips an entire slider in cashew tzatziki. We get to talking about our days, passing around the kombucha bottle (germs? what germs? we’re all friends here!). It’s like the softness of Spring gives our muscles and minds the opportunity to finally relax. There’s no holding of breath as we did in the tight cold of Winter. It’s ok to release, drink some wine, watch the darkening sky, lay our heads in patches of grass and violets.