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Picnicing in Stardew Valley can be a fraught affair. An unexpectedly fraught affair given the paradiscial nature of the valley and the coziness of its aesthetics and people. The overall danger of the activity doesn't depend on which of the four seasons one picks. All that does is change what manner of surprise and or surprise danger one may face. There is even a timetable stuck to the noticeboard of Pierre's produce shop:
Spring: Rabid spring onions
Summer: Sunshine with a chance of Junimos
Autumn: Ninjas
Winter: Rabid snowmen
Magnus Rasmodius, the local Wizard, and Hermione Granger, a visiting witch, since striking up a correspondence after one of the latter's trips to the idyllic farming community, have become very close over a short amount of time. This lead to Pierre sending Hermione a letter claiming that she ought to buy the magic man some flowers, which she duly did. This provoked the necessity for one on one time. As such, the wizard chooses summer for their friends-to-lovers Eight Heart event, ostensibly the least dangerous month for enjoying a picnic. Ostensibly. The problem is that they are both magical entities, and so they attract drama the way ripe fruit attracts flies.
"My dear, would you like a bit of peach wine?" intones a deep male voice full of charm and mystery. Never let it be said that M. Rasmodius is not a gentleman. No, in fact, he well understands how to treat a lady, at least up until marriage. After marriage is another story. He and Hermione sit on a fluffy picnic blanket, red and white checked, surrounded by a magical picnic basket which, much like Hermione's purse, contains far more than it appears as if it should. The sun beams down through a circular hole in the canopy of the forest, sloshing upon a clearing floored with lime green grass, as well as the happy hatted heads of the couple.
Hermione awards her companion a smile that is as bubbly and bright as the peach champagne he's offering. "I would, thank you." she says, holding out her glass for filling.
Time ticks away pleasantly, the duo chatting about this and that while the sun sails by overhead, insects serenading them.
Between two and three in the afternoon, Rasmodius blinks and smiles lopsidedly as he gazes upon his date. "You're sunburnt. Come here."
Hermione's pale skin is slightly red, but with these things you can never be too careful and besides, Rasmodius needs an excuse to both show off and touch her, so he draws her close and magically cooling her poor burnt cheeks and earlobes.
"Thank you, Razzy, hehehe. And thank you ever so much for this picnic! What a lovely surprise!"
The wizard grins back, just as happily, his cowboy hat leaning closer to Hermione's pointed version, his friend of many letters, but not nearly so many letters as might be supposed.
It's while they're giggling and touching hands that a rabid ninja junimo in a red scarf leaps out of Rasmodius' magical picnic basket and begins manically stabbing at the laughing, tipsy, about to smooch couple with a spring onion.
Neither notice.