Happy Birthday, Alan Wilder!

Picnic

We sit under a tree, out of the sun, on a soft blanket weighted down by a few rocks I had found and our picnic basket.
There are dandelions sprouting up everywhere- I can't look around without seeing at least a hundred- and I remember hearing that dandelions only grow where the soil needs them...
I wonder, between Alan and I, who is the soil and who is the dandelion.
Maybe we're each both.
I open the basket to reveal the sandwiches- I had also smuggled some lemons and water and sugar to make lemonade.
I even brought the glasses!
I saved the cake for later.
We'll want to enjoy it tonight!

Alan raises a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looks to the sky.

"Isn't it a lovely day?"
He asks as he looks back at me, meticulously arranging our picnic fare on the blanket.
I stop to meet his eyes, and then turn my head to admire the landscape.
Trees.
The sky.
A pond of some description.
The grass.
The trees meet the pure rays of sun and cast an emerald glow on the fresh green grass...
It looks like magic.
"It really is..."
But I'm busy looking at him now.
He's smiling contentedly, leaning against the tree shading us...
He notices me.
"This can wait..." he begins softly, gesturing to the sandwiches before taking my hand and pulling me closer.
"Come here."
I crawl over to him on the blanket-covered grass, and rest my head in his lap.
His fingers gently twine themselves in my hair, before smoothing themselves back out again and beginning it all over again, and I doze in the summer daylight with the man I love.

~♡~