We all went to the park one splendiferously sublime sunny Sunday. It was idyllic T shirt weather with not a cloud speck sailed the cerulean sky. It was a rare day when Mother Nature proclaimed her fullest glory. My dad always jokes that, ‘In England summer is the best week of the year.’ The plants were all the perfect shade of a rich but bright viridescence. All of nature was wild and free. I gazed all around me in wonderment. It was a visual feast.
We took a blanket to put on the soft, balmy grass and had a Lucullan picnic. We had all our favourite food but it was not hot because you cannot cook in a park. We had delectable strawberry jam sandwiches and every fresh fruit you can imagine. We took some time to digest this sumptupous feast on the greensward. Then we played an energetic game of cricket. The sun smiled on our sport. But big bottles of coke had to be the stumps! My brother Victor scored loads of runs. Every time my dad bowled he would shout ‘Howzat?’ with exhilaration. But there was no umpire. But when we got dad out we were exultant but he stroked his beard reflectively. We did not keep count of which side won because we did not care. We all had a whale of a time playing. At the end we held out caps aloft and gave each other three resounding cheers.
The horse chestnut trees boasted full canopies of verdant leaves complete with pink or yellow candles. A gust of wind made them shake their handsome leaves cheerily.
There were lots of people in the paradisical park. We got some other kids to join in. It is fantastic the way that you can make instant friends in the park. We also went to the playground. The playground was alive with joyful shouts. The odd thing is you ask another kid, ‘how old are you?’ and not, ‘what is your name?’ when you meet. The grownups were lying around sunbathing docilely.
Athletic youths strivings strained the sports field hundreds of meters from where I stood. Comely girls urged them on with strong cries. A brawny limb booted a ball skyward and a second later I heard the loud report of the dull thud. The greasy leather orb flew through the blazing light like a heavy bird.
There was a shady little greenwood grove there that was ringing with dulcet and jocund birdsong. There was a kaleidoscope of resplendent flowers that were all in brightest bloom with bees busily buzzing about and the air was heavy with the sharpest scents of summertime. It was an olfactory banquet. Beyond the bee loud glade, I espied an array wildflowers. It thrilled my heart to see a zephyr make the fragrant flowers do a sprightly dance. Harlequin butterflies fluttered carelessly from one plant to the next. Not being a lepidopterist, I could not tell which species they were. Lint floated blissfully down like cotton from the trees. Everyone was cheerful and even the dogs barked musically.
There was a little lake with snow white white swans blithely and effortlessly swimming the deep, dark water. Mother swan was followed by half a dozen downy, tawny cygents. Myriad reflections gamboled on the water’s silvery skin. We hired a pedal boat and had a tranquil cruise around the pleasant lake. I felt a deep calm as as we plied the waters. At the corner of the lake the water flowed over a slimy moss grown rocks into a burbling brook.
We had heavenly ice-cream before going home after that marvellous day.