The art of the picnic is planned spontaneity.
As summer is coming, I do intend to write a piece on the fine art of picnicking, whether with a fine cloth and cheery company on a riverside meadow in the dappled shade of a willow, or crouched behind a boulder in a storm on a Cumberland fell. The circumstances are all, and there should be equipment and victuals appropriate to the place.
(You have to love a picnic mat which is a map of the Lake District.)
Until the article is actually written though, there are models to follow…