(This is ten years from now when the kids are old enough for it to be possible.)
On a warm Summer morning, I prepare a delightful picnic and we all four pile into the car. We sing songs together in harmony as we drive out of the city and into the wilderness. We find a perfect picnic location. James parks the car and we walk a little way into the vine and fern-filled wood to a glade beside a stream or small river.
On the grass, I set up our lunch. Boiled eggs, fried chicken, potato salad, sweet tea, pie, wine and other picnic essentials. (And we don't use paper plates either.)
After lunch, James gets out his guitar and he sings us all softly to sleep under the dappled shade of maple trees, birch and dogwood. We are lying on beautifully hand-quilted blankets, of course.
When we rise, the boys toss a ball around and Beatrice and I wade in the stream, searching for the prettiest rocks. I find time to draw and read. Perhaps we all go for a little hike. We point out all the songbirds and the children name them.
As the afternoon turns to evening, we wrap ourselves in blankets and James and Ambrose build a little fire. We all enjoy s'mores and we sing our hearts out in the dark.
The kids fall asleep on the ride home and James and I reminisce about the night we met all those years ago and how we fell in love.
(images via weheartit)