❝ The gentle cresting hills swallow them within a compass of gold, sunlight beating on grass in green to gold transition, fighting against the orange poppies wavering in the light breeze. It's the sunlight of an early summer, a heat not unbearable yet enough to swathe the surroundings in a haze of heat-- their patch of hidden valley bare of trees. If the picture had a wider perspective, he could then see the apple trees fringing the hills around the, but the central focus is the dark blue blanket spread out on the grass. There's food littered in patterns on the fabric, half-eaten sandwiches and plastic boxes of diced fruit and nuts; a plate stacked with strawberry cake and an assortment of sweets. They haven't gotten to that yet, having taking an intermission to relax from relaxation; leggos, two trains, and a book laid out in front of a small boy. At the edge of the blanket sits an open box with paint streaks and permanent thumbprints pressed across the metal, inside a spectrum of paints arranged in descending hues.
A lizard appears to be in mid-squirm, cupped within the hands of a small boy, edging toward the open end of a wicker picnic basket. He's grinning; laughing at the pale arms draped around his stomach- a petite woman with a cloud of dark hair, the ends in a loose cascade of curls. Her jean shorts and pale pink t-shirt make for simple dress, even if the gold necklace dotted with a deep red stone echos beneath the casual. She's caught the culprit in a hold- the knave with his trick lizard- laughter shining against the gold of the sun, against the smooth angles of her face, against the boy and his mother. ❞
A lizard appears to be in mid-squirm, cupped within the hands of a small boy, edging toward the open end of a wicker picnic basket. He's grinning; laughing at the pale arms draped around his stomach- a petite woman with a cloud of dark hair, the ends in a loose cascade of curls. Her jean shorts and pale pink t-shirt make for simple dress, even if the gold necklace dotted with a deep red stone echos beneath the casual. She's caught the culprit in a hold- the knave with his trick lizard- laughter shining against the gold of the sun, against the smooth angles of her face, against the boy and his mother. ❞
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