Don't Forget the Picnic Basket

During the pandemic, I would stay home to help my baby sister with her virtual classes whilst attending my own. Every morning we would wake up at 8 AM, eat breakfast, and then spend the day staring at our laptop screens for most of the day. This cycle proceeded for months and needless to say, it got a bit redundant and tiring. As the days grew longer and flowers began to bud, she wanted to go outside more often. Our neighborhood playground was covered in police tape, guarded by a lonely picket sign reading “PLAYGROUND CLOSED.” The only way we could spend time outside was on our balcony. The balcony was just a few feet from our neighbors, separated by tall shrubs and trees. One quiet Friday afternoon, my sister was especially restless and she wanted to go out. Suddenly, the soft strumming of a guitar coming from our neighbor’s stereo gave me an idea. We could have a small picnic on our balcony. Elated by the idea, she ran upstairs to grab her paint brushes and watercolors. “Can we paint too?” I nodded and we arranged a cozy setup on the balcony floor. A white grid blanket with tiny pink flowers was sprawled on the floor, adorned by two small wooden crates. One of the crates had a small notebook set beside a water-filled mason jar and a tiny metal tin with watercolors. The other crate’s purpose was as our lunch table. As I rushed toward the glass doors with plates in my hand, she quickly blocked the balcony. “Don’t forget the picnic basket!” she exclaimed. We placed the empty basket on one corner of the blanket while we enjoyed our picnic with plump grapes and spaghetti. We could hear the soft guitar playing from across the mini forest along with the gentle cool breeze. It was a perfect Friday afternoon.