Archive
09/22/10 - (2)
Picnic at the Lake
This mid-September mid-Wednesday, The breeze-filled mid-fifties air is delicious, Gratifying to my picky imagination's appetite, Nothing short of revitalizing, inspiring, tasty, The last thing you'd expect from old pickle-faced fickle fate — A smoked-turkey-and-American-cheese-on-kaiser-roll-sandwich, Picnic-for-one kind of high noon In the park overlooking Lake Nebagamon's deserted public beach, Precisely the variety of anodyne, analgesic, elixir, balm Guaranteed to cure a fellow's incurable case of the whatevers, Make him want to fill his plate, with fall's homemade bounty.
Such a spontaneous, bracingly salvific moment, here or anywhere, Rarely, if ever, comes to a bummed-out spirit seeking surcease, Reprieve from the humdrum, workaday, stuck-indoors doldrums, Invites him to step outside his discomfort zone, For an unintruded spell of perfectly timed sensory satisfaction, Indulge in a bite or eight of an autumnal feast, Right before winter turns the picnic basket inside out, For the next five months. And what's most delightful of all, about this quiet celebration, Is that even the becalmed lake and impasto-dotted trees Know not to bother me while I'm at nature's table.
09/22/10 - (2)
|
|||
|
|||
