Today we went to the end-of-the-year picnic for Joan and Kate’s preschool. There was a local kid doing a magic show, and children and parents were scattered on the lawn on blankets, eating their picnic lunches and basking in togetherness. The temperature- about 78 degrees, with a cloudless, summer-blue sky. The lake, serene and clear, not yet green or smelling of dead fish. No breeze. No bugs. We were surrounded by all of these beautiful children- bright eyed, happy, showing off their school friends to their parents, faces smeared with mayo or pudding… or sometimes boogers (What? I didn’t have any kleenex along, and I was saving our napkins for any Lunch Incidents). It would have been perfect, if only I had packed some chocolate in our basket.
At one point, I smacked my forehead, realizing I left the camera at home. But then I realized that if I had my camera, I would have to take myself out of the scene in order to photograph it. (Which, in an attempt at full disclosure, I’m really not all that good at anyway.) It is exhausting, right? Trying to document everything, but also trying to live in those moments too. I’m not even sure it’s possible to do both. So it was nice, to just sit there and be, instead of trying to capture it.
And also, I felt at home. In a town I used to hate, or at least really, really not like.