a sunset picnic--cliché or never-ending magic?

 

A beautiful day in the Fort usually consists of me texting my friends and asking them to come with me somewhere outside. Usually, they have too much homework, have other things going on, or would simply rather lay in bed. But, lo and behold, after days and days of trying, I got an "OMG YES!" and my heart soared. 

Picnics by bodies of water are my outside forte, as demonstrated by this blog being up for a month now and me having had two separate experiences that I felt needed to be documented. But I still have versatility! The last picnic was in Dallas and this one was in Fort Worth. So there. Maybe the next picnic will be on the other side of the Trinity for even more versatility; only time will tell how many DFW bodies of water I will have dinner with. 

For this specific picnic, my friend Zoe and I picked up Torchy's, a Fort Worth staple, and drove along the Trinity looking for a spot to park and dine. There was only one parking lot in the vicinity, and it was completely full, probably because everyone else in the area had had the same idea as I and had had it sooner. Zoe and I circled around back to I-30 and came back around, hoping by the time this 5 minute circle was fin, there would be a spot. I watched with jealous eyes as joyous children on tiny bikes with tiny helmets cycled in the perfect weather while we were left in a car on a paved road with tacos that we could not yet eat getting colder by the second. Finally, we came around the bend to find, huzzah!, an empty spot, but just as we were pulling in, a stupid, stupid family with their even stupider bikes and their still stupider helmets stole our spot right from underneath our tires--the devil's family, for sure. I will not say that I did not curse at them from my Nissan.

So, we made the circle again, but instead of going back to the tiny parking lot, we parked illegally, as one does, in a lot meant for business-people. I am not afraid of parking tickets as I had a wopping 18 my sophomore year from the TCU PD, and eventually came to terms with paying $50 for convenience. 

We crossed the street and finally were in grass, not concrete! A perfect hill with the perfect amount of golden-hour sunlight was situated in front of the water, and we tossed down our blanket and situated ourselves right on top of it. Praise God, time for Torchy's. The weather was perfect, the tacos were divine, and the sun shone so perfectly on the water that the trees dappled in the current. During our picnic we were graced with families and their dogs, squirrels that kept their distance, and a stunning egret who also appeared to be having dinner. We watched the water gather in little circles, and then disperse as fish returned home from their 9-5. Turtles were basking on the sand (dirt? What are river grounds donned by?), and we were basking on the hill. As the sun began to set, we were also graced with a swarm of gnats, who kept cordial for a while, but then decided they wanted our leftover queso, so we packed up our gear and returned to my illegal parking job. I know you all must be wondering--no, this time, I did not get a ticket! A once-in-a-million chance. 

Picnics are absolutely wonderful, though they may be a cliché. But I argue this--is not everything a cliché for a reason? Is it not something that the world collectively aspires to? The greatest of all things will eventually become a cliché because society will so often relate to and attempt to recreate it, making something unattainable into something all can enjoy. So why not succumb, and enjoy it?