Look who greeted me first thing on birthday morn:
We opted for two blankets for sitting, and a bread/cheese/fruit picnic. People don't eat like this, as they used to. I think it's a shame. In my old family photos from the '40s, they're always eating meals on blankets in the grass.
Julia loaned Adam her "hobo bag" purse. He can sling it over his shoulder and thus carry small things.
Here's a 30-second excerpt of part V by Mr. Mizesko, the symphony member -- "Lament and Finale."
The sun had sighed behind the trees, and fireflies floated in the woods.
We relaxed. Most people sat on chairs, but we couldn't carry two lawn chairs plus the food. I kept rearranging myself on the blanket, but at my new age hard earth and tree roots are no longer comfortable.
As the music ended, I scribbled on my program a few poetic impressions. Here they are.
Against a robin-egg sky at sunset
The moon cradle lay and
Trails of crossing jets and
Beethoven's agonies, moaning from
String and wood and metal,
And fingers and mouths and one baton.
Clusters of sparrows, and a lone gull.
A fireworks finale above the river,
And a thousand thousand thoughts
Drifting up from minds crowded,
I lie on the concert floor and
Boldly stare at a woman's profile
Until she senses me and turns.
Perhaps most lovely of all ~
A stranger captures fireflies in the wood,
And gifts them to expectant girls
Who bow over their cupped hands,
Faces full of wonder.
(copyright by author)