One last review. Everything is there that we need, for what I intend to do. Then I stow the basket in the car. Good that you do not notice. How should it, with all the things we have to take with us. Just a day to travel. The next time it will go back. A busy day. It’s getting late. We are in no hurry the next morning.
„Do we want to stop and have breakfast on the way?“, you ask me.
„Definitely,“ I reply. As I drive, I let my eyes wander over the surroundings. Finally, I find a position that seems suitable for my purposes, so I ask you to stop. At the edge of a meadow you park the car.
„What do we want here?“, you ask me.
„You’ll see,“ I answer cryptically, „Just get out.“ You do it without hesitation. Probably also because you are curious and know that it can be good, what I intend to do. Full of anticipation, I pull the basket out of the car, spread out the blanket and begin to spread the things that I have prepared.
„What a great idea, a picnic,“ you mean, and it actually sounds like a happy surprise, „I did not actually notice.“
„That was also planned,“ I reply as I urge you to sit. The sun is shining. The summer is already over, but the autumn is not really there yet. I’ll paint you a bread and give it to you. You bite into it. Then you laugh at me. I’m glad. Also, about the fact that I managed this surprise. Then you hug me and kiss me. We laugh and joke. A bit like children expressing their joy. Cars drive by. We do not notice it. At some point we have to drive. Duty calls. I pack together. Empty packaging and an inviolable reminder.
A few weeks later. The autumn passed by. Unnoticed is the end. Only when the winter abruptly moves, it stands out. Much was to be done, has been done and is to be done. In the middle of the night I come home. Tired and starved. I just want to get out of the cold, into the warmth and into bed. You’re already going to sleep, I think. Should I have something to eat? I decide to go to bed right away, very softly so as not to wake you up. But when I get into the house, I am enveloped in a pleasant warmth, a special that can only mean one thing. I go in amazement. You actually heated the fireplace. The fires patter fun and spread this special atmosphere, which can only emanate from a living fire. You sit in front of it. The picnic blanket is on the floor in front of the fireplace. After our breakfast in the countryside I washed them and put them away. It would not be used again for many months, I thought then, if at all. It happens too rarely, such an opportunity. Mostly we are on our own. But now you have obviously outgrown it and placed in front of the fireplace. Expectantly, you sit on it and hold out my hand invitingly. Did not I really want to go to bed? All of a sudden, I feel neither tiredness nor exhaustion, but only the warmth of your invitation, so that I sit down with you. You could be in bed, now, but you’re here because you wanted to do me good, just like that.
And so the circle closes from summer to autumn to winter. Spring will come. With certainty. Meteorological as well as in life. It takes its course. From time to time we will be surprised. With a picnic or something else. It does not matter what it is. Just to be there and enjoy the moments we have. As long as we can and have the possibility, so that the gravity and all the burdensome, which also exists and accompanies us, falls away from us, for a certain time, for the time, which we forswear, moments of the silent agreement and the shared joy. Undramatic and unspectacular. I remember when I’m tired. An oasis of retreat and energy tank, even in memory. Especially in the memory. This is how we always find our way back to the real thing. And to us.