A picnic in the Rosalio olive grove is a feast not just for the tastebuds. The eyes get to take in one of the most beautiful views, all tilting hills and wonky trees and tiny villages perched on unlikely mounds far into the distance. The ears are treated to the sounds of birds and faraway tractors and the occasional cry of an Italian mamma calling her brood in to eat. The skin enjoys the softness of the wild flowers and grasses and the bristling thrill of the possibility of a 3 foot black grass snake paying a visit. And then there are the tastes and the smells. I’m not exactly sure why a simple piece of bread and cheese takes on such additional majesty when eaten outside,sitting on a patch of grass but it surely does. A glass of wine is like drinking from the very earth and a crunch of salad leaf like eating it.
In fact the only thing to disrupt this perfect feast of the senses is the sound of Jason’s pencil, as he sees a branch that needs tidying, a baby tree that needs tending or some other chore, scribbling things on his ‘to do’ list.
