Picnic

Kitchen: made up the sandwiches. Exactly how Maxime wanted his, and Gabriel wanted his, too.

(Pickles for Maxime!)

(Simple for Gabriel!)

Toasted bread for Maxime.

Lightly toasted for Gabriel.

Packed up the basket. Ready to go. Hungry boys! Go, will ya?

Gabriel loves that ballon from the airport! He wanted to bring it on the picnic!

"Yes, bring it!" I said.

Huge happiness and smiles.

Maxime picks up the basket.

"It's heavy, I'll carry it," I say.

"It's okay," says Maxime, and walks out with in his nonchalant, calm manner.

We walked down toward the water.

Maxime had the picnic basket. Heavy.

And Gabriel had the ballon. Light.

Almost there, and Gabriel: "My Lego!"

Uh oh. Goodness, how can one have a proper picnic without Lego, may I ask?

Off he raced, back to the house to fetch it.

We set up a toasty blanket under the pine trees, in the shade, and the wind was quite strong, and Gabriel did not want to part with his Happy Balloon, so he attached it to a stick, and leaned it on the closest pine. During the picnic, it floated up and down and around in the wind. He loved that. He smiled his smile. You know the one.

We lay down, dove into the picnic basket, and ate like kings.

We all said we would eat the donuts first, and the sandwiches after, but we were only joking.

We ate mostly in silence. Each eating his own sandwich. The sandwich that each loves. Exactly how they like it made.

We watched the wind make swirly, unpredictable patterns on the water. And the geese moved noiselessly, and elegantly.

We were taking in not so much the wonderful spot, and the view, but each other.

Just each so happy, I think, that we were altogether again. I bet that is what we were thinking. More than about the geese, and the way the wind made those ripples on the lake.

Gabriel: "Papa?"

"Yes?"

"You haves (sic) some poissions (pronouncing the "s" on the end) here?

"It's full of fish."

I can see he doesn't understand. I repeat: "Full of fish. Totally."

"What?"

Slower even: "It's full of fish."

"Is what?" (Gabriel-speak for: "What does that mean?")

Giving up now, so switch to some French for him: "It's plein de poissons."

Maxime, with a tilt of the head toward Gabriel: "Le lac est plein de poissons."

We revert to silence and our sandwiches. Gabriel, almost surely, contemplating what a lake full of fish looks like.

Maxime is growing incredibly. He eats well, but not particularly much. He grows anyway.

Sometimes, he will surprise me, though.

Like this:

We finished our sandwiches and the side things and whatnot, and I ask him:

"Were you hungry, a little bit? A little bit?" (note past tense usage)

"I'm hungry, yeah," he replies. (present tense)

Canadian geese, the ones with the beautiful black necks, stop by on the lake from time to time. Today, there was a pair of them. They are not timid of people. They floated around on the water, and did not mind us at all. Even though we were quite close.

I thought they would fly away. But they never did. They even stayed on our side of the water, and were playing in the shallow water, at the edge of the shoreline.

Gabriel wanted to feed them, so he took part of his baguette, and we went quietly to the water's edge, not to scare the geese, and he threw the pieces in the water, and we watched the little pieces of bread float away, until we could not see them any more. They did not float over to the geese, like we hoped they would.

Maxime was tired, the jet lag really hit him, and we were planning on going to the swimming pool in town in the afternoon, so he went to take a nap.

Gabriel and I found ourselves alone, and in heaven.

Just the strong breeze in the pines above our heads. The warm blanket underneath us. We just seemed to be lying on that blanket together, not breathing in the air, but breathing in the other. Gently, quietly. Just taking in each other. Drinking it in, voraciously. But not a word about it.

They moved to shallow water to bathe.

Watching his pieces of bread float away. Hopefully over to the geese...