Ants. Mosquitoes. Flies. Oh, My!
But other than that, what’s not to like about a picnic?
Having learned the joys of picnicking pleasures from my parents as a young child, I have always been a picnic lover. In my youth while on our Wisconsin vacations, my mother and father thought nothing of throwing the five of us kids in a small fishing boat and motoring us out to an island for a picnic lunch. It would have been a lot easier to eat in the cabin, but somehow, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tasted a whole lot better on an island.
Although I continued the same tradition with my own children and grandchildren, I’ve never done a lot of picnicking elsewhere. Perhaps I thought I needed an island. I don’t.
So recently, I’ve picked up my picnicking pace especially when I travel. Some of the most delightful meals of my life, simple though they may be, have been on a picnic with a view: be it a meadow of yellow daffodils, the wide blue expanse of a lake, or the rusty-rose rocks of a desert.
I’ve discovered it’s a lot more fun to lunch on the steps of the Lincoln Monument than eat in a fancy restaurant. More inviting to listen to the serene music of a mountain creek with a rock for a seat than endure the noise of a fast food joint; and definitely more inspiring to perch on the rim of the Grand Canyon than eat in the stuffy confines of a car.
For one of the things I love about a picnic is that it’s a rare a chance to stop the busyness of the moment and just look around and be still. See the clouds. Smell the air. Watch a bird. But most importantly, it’s a chance to reconnect with someone you love, the beauty of nature, a friend, or maybe just yourself.
In a way, a picnic creates its own island no matter where you are, for it offers an oasis of calm, an opportunity for togetherness, and a chance to share.
Just don’t forget the bug spray.
I’m Marnie Mamminga and that’s my perspective.