Towards the end of June, my friends and I decided to have one last summer hurrah: a picnic in a park. I wanted it to be a sort of photo shoot as well, so we put effort into the menu (sandwiches or hotdogs? salad or pasta? how about wine – red or white?) and making the food photogenic (paper cups or mason jars?). We got dressed and all dolled up – and then of course, it started to rain. Real hard.
There we all were, wearing our best summery outfits, and outside it was pouring, the sky overcast and gloomy. What were we to do? It was when Pat leaned towards the window in utter dejection, her chin resting on one hand, that I said, “OK, that’s what we’ll be. We’ll be the girls who were hoping to have one last day in the sun, but whose plans were foiled by the rain.” Nothing groundbreaking, but it was all we had.We had a marvelous time running around the house, trying to figure out how we could bring out that story in photographs. Towards the end, we couldn’t hold back the smiles, and the shoot quickly became about girls just having fun under the rain. When it was all over, we were as happy as could be. We marched indoors, unpacked the wicker basket, and had a lovely picnic in the dining room.
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