"All words are symbols that represent unspeakable realities. Which is also why words are magical." (Donald Miller tweet)

Thursday, September 01, 2011

is this a Monty Python scene?

Last Saturday, Spike and I went for an impromptu picnic. We had been grocery shopping, realized we were starving, and none of the food we had just purchased was picnic-worthy.

So we dropped the groceries at home, grabbed a little cooler, went BACK to the grocery store, picked up some picnic-friendly foodie bits and headed off to "any green space, near some water, with a picnic table".

We wanted a picnic table
because when we grabbed the cooler at home,
we also grabbed a blanket.
And then we set it down.
And left it on the kitchen counter.

Found a green space. Near a creek. No picnic tables. Started down a deserted path anyway, found a clearing with fallen logs, plopped down on the logs, opened the cooler and feasted.

Note: the clearing literally was along the side of the path, but no one was there, so what does it matter?

We munched on fresh bread and old cheese and local strawberries. Waved hello to the one lady walking her dog. Slowly became immersed in deep conversation, just the two of us, regarding Important Life Events as we slurped watermelon in between chocolate-covered almonds.

Until Spike glanced up, paused mid-sentence, and said quietly, "There are people coming. With nametags. A lot of them."

Suddenly, without any explanation, a troupe of 30 to 40 adults, all wearing nametags, strode cheerfully and energetically through our little clearing. We nodded and smiled until we looked like bobble heads. A few stragglers brought up the rear. And then they were gone, the woods returned to peaceful silence, and we were left to ourselves again.

Seemed odd.