49) Picnic

Early in the morning you ride your bike into the woods eventually entering a topography of glacial time: there is a slight profile to the territory, covered with moss, grasses, leading to a river. You carry a backpack with some sandwiches, apples, water. You are free to stop anywhere and take a swim. You may have a picnic. Undisturbed. And then, after waking up from a nap on the dry grass, leave the same place without any deeper knowledge of the premises, without the need for an invitation, without contact. You are a temporary guest, a visitor.

Picnic perhaps comes from the French “piquer”, meaning to pick something up, to harvest wild fruits, to have an informal meal outside; in this way occupying a piece of land temporarily, as an uninvited visitor, oblivious of possible existing rules, of animal and human inhabitants, of jurisdictions and property lines. This is the generosity of this possibility in the relationship to the world: “Freedom for Everybody, there is enough for everybody”.

Early in the morning you ride your bike into the woods eventually entering a topography of glacial time: there is a slight profile to the territory, covered with moss, grasses, leading to a river. You carry a backpack with some sandwiches, apples, water. You are free to stop anywhere and take a swim. You may have a picnic. Undisturbed. And then, after waking up from a nap on the dry grass, leave the same place without any deeper knowledge of the premises, without the need for an invitation, without contact. You are a temporary guest, a visitor.

Picnic perhaps comes from the French “piquer”, meaning to pick something up, to harvest wild fruits, to have an informal meal outside; in this way occupying a piece of land temporarily, as an uninvited visitor, oblivious of possible existing rules, of animal and human inhabitants, of jurisdictions and property lines. This is the generosity of this possibility in the relationship to the world: “Freedom for Everybody, there is enough for everybody”.