The River Picnic

 

The great river tracked its way along the valley floor, flowing between ranks of thick, lush trees and, briefly, between the old stone buildings that made up a small village.  There it donated the tiniest fraction of its power to an ancient waterwheel.  In truth, the river did not even notice the loss.  It glittered like snake scales under the bright sun, shimmering in silvers and blues and greens.

 

Fed from the mountains, it was deep and fast.  It was always cold, no matter how hot the weather, and today was a very hot day.  In the middle of the afternoon, the town was dozing lethargically, baking in a hot summer oven.

 

A little further downstream the river curled around a cluster of huge old willows.  Thick grass grew on the banks.

 

There was a blanket.

 

There were the remains of a picnic on and around it.

 

People lay around in various states of repose…

 

Maring and Rebecca lay on the grass in the sunshine.  Their bodies were still damp and tingling after a dip in the freezing cold river.  Their clothes felt like they had been sitting in the baker’s ovens while they swam.

 

Rubber the E Raiser and his wife Tahoma sat at the river’s edge, dangling their feet in the water and staring idly at the glimmering ripples around their legs.

 

Scrabble the Wordsmith was a gently snoring mountain of well-fed belly in the dappled shade of an old willow.

 

Serif, Rubber and Tahoma’s son who minded his P’s and Q’s on a farm over the hill from his parents, sat against the old willow’s trunk, whittling at a piece of old wood.

 

“Oh, this really is the life…” sighed Rebecca, stretching languidly in the soft warm grass.

“Right you are Miss Becky.” Agreed Rubber, who smiled and nudged Tahoma with his shoulder.  “Nout to do but sit and make sure the river gets watched for the afternoon…”

“Aye!” Tahoma piped up “…and kill the fish with your smelly old feet!”.

“Yours may smell my dear” began Rubber in a well rehearsed retort “but my feet are clean and pure as the snow.”

“Hah!” Tahoma tried, almost successfully, to push Rubber into the river.

 

 

“There was never anything like this in the city.” Rebecca said to Martin as Rubber and Tahoma descended into the good natured bickering they were famous for.

 

“No?  Why not?” Martin asked

“Never any time.  You could never just lie around doing nothing.  You couldn’t just recklessly spend time like this.  It was far too ‘valuable’.”

 

Martin was quiet for a while.  Then he pushed himself up on one elbow.

 

“’Becc?” he began, eventually “What did you do in the City?”

“Haven’t I said?” she asked after a short pause.

“No.”

“Oh.” Another pause. “I was in the… hospitality industry.” She said finally.

“Okay.” Said Martin “Is that something you might do here?”

“No.” Rebecca said quickly.  “No, I will find something else to do here.”

“Fair enough.” Said Martin, guessing correctly that it was time to change the subject.

“Well, in the meantime you can just spend time…”

“Yes.” Rebecca agreed, feeling relieved.

“…and maybe sometime you would like to help me with my B’s?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

 

Martin lay back on the grass and covered his eyes against the sun’s glare, feeling very content.  Rebecca lounged next ho him and sighed, relaxing.  He could feel her shoulder just touching his.

 

Under the huge old willow, Scrabble regarded the pair with one open eye for a few more seconds, then shifted to a more comfortable position and drifted thoughtfully back to sleep.

 

They all lazed around the river for the whole afternoon, making sure it was watched properly.

 

Just spending time.