A Stone's Throw From Heaven

 The perilous picnic began with the idea on Friday to eat our dinner down by the river.  I had never been before, but I convinced Dailey that it was a serene little place where we could sprawl on rocks in the setting sun and eat with the sounds of rushing water in our ears.  She agreed to the adventure, and we packed our basket and were off.

The plan, however, was thrown a little off kilter when we arrived at the river and saw a man with a gun.
What.
Crank the engine back on, pull on to the road, and get the heck out of there.   
Tout de suite. 

Next, we decided to maybe find a nice little (gun-free) field off the highway instead of the river.  After a few wrong turns and a really long dirt road that didn't have enough room to turn around on, we found the most beautiful field I have ever seen.

It was set against a radiant sunset, stretching as far left and right as we could see.  We hopped a fence, ran straight to the center of that sea of grass, stretched out a sheet, turned on some swing-era jazz.

 On the menu: mediterranean pressed picnic sandwiches, apples, and chocolate-dipped strawberries.

The pictures absolutely do not do the setting justice, and I had the sweetest friend imaginable with me. 

After all, what is more quintessentially summer than a picnic in the fading light?