My Romanticization of the Kingston Summer

Okay, so i have a bike and it has a little basket in the front of it (preferably pink) and i ride this bike in the warm summer sun to Pan Chancho's, where i pick up a French baguette and place it in my bike basket. Then i ride to the lake, the baguette smell wafting through the air as i cruise, a breeze blowing the hair out of my face. When i get to the lake, there are others there and a picnic blanket laid out. I throw my bike down beside the other bikes (metal clashing noise!) on the grass, so green and alive, and sit down with my friends, one of which brought the picnic blanket and a knife, another the butter. And we sit and lie near the lake, eating buttered pieces of baguette with buskers and/or town troubadours playing guitar and harmonica nearby. We laugh at jokes and talk about our weddings and who will be invited and we gossip and make plans to have a seance and squint up at one another because of the sun. Then it starts to get kind of chilly and dark and we decide to call it a day and go home. We're only wearing t-shirts and shorts, after all. So we gather our things and one friend wraps the picnic blanket around his/her shoulders and arms and someone else catches a glimpse of the sky, which is full of stars and so vast, and points it out to the others and we all stand there staring up.

(photo by El Andariego)