generally acceptable

Sunday night I could find nothing of interest to occupy our time that did not involve a bar concert or a crappy movie. It was already 9pm, too late for us old people to find a museum devoted to figurines or some sort of community eating situation. Those things happen much earlier in the evening. Even earlier on Sundays.
I went upstairs to inform Davidu-san of the hopeless situation. Surely another night of pitching ourselves around aimlessly until one of us gets a concussion. “That’s okay, ” he replied with much cheer, “I just packed us a picnic.”
All I could do was proclaim how happy that was and go about grabbing up a blanket and asking him to grab the mustard (still he forgot). We went over to the creek and found a quiet spot near a bend. We unpacked the picnic and opened the wine just as the last of the sunlight faded from the sky and the moon showed it’s exceedingly bright face to us.
We laid there talking and joking and eating while the bats dove and chittered around us. I love watching bats fly, it’s almost hypnotic.
And just when I thought the night could not get any more romantic…a couple of homeless dudes decided to raid the trash on the other side of the park. They were pulling out all the aluminum cans, tossing them to the ground and flattening them. The beauty of the moon, the lullaby whisper of bats and the sweet music that is trash being tossed around and occasionally stomped on.
God bless city life.