There is still more than a month to go before we get rid of winter, but that does not keep my mind from wandering forward to the months when the weather turns warmer, the grass gets green and the flowers and trees come back to life.

One of my favorite parts of growing up was the spring and summer time because that is when — in our neighborhood — it was time to get to together and eat some great food.

Neighborhood picnics were all the rage when I was between 5 and 12 years old.

You either got together with your next-door neighbors or everyone within three or four houses of you would gather together to feast.

I can still taste my mother’s potato salad. No one has ever made it better. Believe me, I have been searching for decades to find a replacement for it, but nothing comes close.

The smell of grilled meats permeated the air in our neighborhood and made it hard to concentrate on the game of baseball or basketball that we might be playing while we waited for that famous, “Come and get it!”

There was more than one occasion when someone racing for a few houses down had to stop for treatment of a scrapped knee or elbow that was sustained as we jockeyed for position to be first in line for the food.

Each picnic was a bit different, but there were always staples. Potato salad was one of those staples, along with hot dogs and hamburgers. Baked beans and three bean salad seem to always make the cut, as well as someone who would bring Jell-O with shaved carrots in it. I ate it more than once, but it was truly not my favorite. But you throw a few bananas in the cherry or strawberry Jell-O, and that bowl was empty in a hurry.

Of course, the best thing about the picnics was eating the food, but there were other things that made them special.

After dinner was over and things were picked up, it was time to relax and enjoy the beautiful spring or summer day.

Laying in the grass in the back yard letting the food settle often led to watching the clouds roll by and trying to figure out just what they looked like.

Sometimes they were ducks, sometimes dragons, but there was always something in the sky to keep us occupied.

If it happened to be a holiday weekend picnic, it was even better.

I can remember eating and then watching the fireworks in the back yard. Or you piled in the car and headed to the lake to swim or fish.

It is a shame that many kids today do not know the feeling of having a close-knit neighborhood.

Heck, now-a-days, you are lucky to even speak to your neighbors. Security fences seem to be everywhere shutting off the communication between those who live there.

We could all benefit from reclaiming the tradition of the neighborhood picnic.

After all, there is nothing like good food, good friends and a good time.