Simple Sunday Gifts

Order in : A September celebration of summer

Ingredients:
exquisite weather
picnic supper
stirring live music
dessert bonanza

Step one:

It was a day with a sky so blue it hurt and not a trace of humidity in the air.

A drive through the bowels of Chesterfield county deposited us at Pocahontas State Park for a winding walk through the trees to a clearing in the woods.

There, in the lat afternoon sun, stood the Heritage Amphitheater aglow in the late afternoon sun.

Making our way to the front row of wooden benches, we secured four places (front row center) with purple velvet pillows and an outstretched black sweater.

Step two:

Taking a blanket and our picnic in hand, we climbed the rolling hillside behind the benches where some people had already chosen to put down stakes, despite plenty of bench space still being available.

When we reached the top of the hill, we spread out the blanket under the canopy of trees facing the amphitheater, a gentle breeze all around us.

Supper was a simple one of shrimp salad wraps, a marinated salad of cucumbers and tomatoes, watermelon and red grapes with vinho verde.

As we sat there eating, we were treated to the Richmond Symphony musicians warming up.

Bits of a famous movie theme drifted up, but in a deconstructed manner.

Here were the woodwinds playing one part, a horn doing another entirely and a couple of strings playing something else.

I spotted Russell Wilson, pianist for the Richmond Symphony, walking by and called out to him.

Strolling over with his ubiquitous camera slung over his shoulder, I went to meet him.

"You didn't have to get up," he said smiling and reaching out to embrace me in a hug, "But since you did..."

Fact: I will always happily stand to hug a symphony musician who will come play a free concert in a park.

Step three:

We slid into our front row seats just as the conductor walked onstage and the couple joining us arrived just after the "Star Spangled Banner."

Tonight's program was all about American composer John Williams, he of the "Jaws" theme.

One of the first pieces we heard was :"Air and Simple Gifts," the moving piece Williams had written for Obama's inauguration.

It set the bar very high for the evening.

The conductor had chosen the Sibileus' piece used in "The Hunt for Red October," as an example of the style of Williams' music.

We heard a piece from "Schindler's List" with a haunting violin solo that could break hearts.

Donning a Harry Potter-style hooded cape, the conductor announced that selections from H.P. were next.

"I think I'm going to cry," said the H.P. lover in our group.

For the record, she did tear up, later saying, "I can't believe it's really over."

At one point during "Hedwig's Theme," Russell moved from his piano to play what looked like a tiny piano but produced a tinkling sound.

I had no clue what it might be.

No John Williams evening could be complete without the theme to "Star Wars," but first we heard music from another in the "Star Wars" series before getting to the original.

And while I'm no Skywalker fan, it was positively stirring to hear that familiar theme played live by a symphony orchestra from a few feet away.

Once it was all over, I saw a familiar face onstage.

It was Matt Gold, a symphony member and friend, and surely he could tell me what the tinkling sound had come from.

He could. It was a celesta, a keyboard instrument where hammers strike steel plates suspended over wooden resonators.

It was the cap on the performance. My favorite experiences are where I learn something.

Step four:

After a scenic drive out of the park at dusk, we motored back to the city and met our symphony companions at Garnett's for dessert.

Over black and white cake and hummingbird cake (the women) and strawberry-peach pie (both guys), we discussed the recent Democratic convention and the rousing speeches of Michelle Obama and Clinton.

"Why can't Bill be our president again?" the black and white cake eater asked half seriously.

All of a sudden, our server joined the conversation.

"Yea, Clinton is my first choice for make-out president," she said smiling. "Obama is my number two make-out president."

And while I'd never pondered which presidents I might choose to suck face with given the chance, I saw her point.

I could make out with Bill or Barack, too.

Order out: A practically perfect picnic and rousing performance on an exquisite late summer evening, followed by cake and make-out fantasies.

Yield: Unadulterated Sunday night happiness and complete surrender to it.