Date: Sun, 15 Jun 1997 22:42:13 EDT From: tINK blots Subject: FILLER: Is that pollen in my eye? [still very rough, but I thought maybe I'd share some notes from a picnic yesterday...tink] Saturday, June 14, 1997 The late morning sunlight casts shafts of light in the midst of the pines and other trees of the park, shafts that glow golden as yellowish fine dust showers everywhere from the pine trees "smoking" today. It's not as thick as fog, but there's the same kind of floating softening of edges as you peer ahead and blink. The MIT Japanese Lunch Table group chatters and laughs, enjoying the short walk in the warm air under the trees. About thirty people have collected for barbecue and companionship. I'm handed Ken-chan. He's 13 months old, and an armful--everyone laughs that he will be a sumo wrestler, and he certainly seems to be as big as many two or even three year olds. He knows me, and actually reaches out and wants "mike-san" to hold him. Part of my attraction is that I "fly" him--hands under his arms, holding him up overhead as he laughs wildly. I'm also introduced to Mari-chan, about 9 months old. She sits quietly with me as her mother and older sister take a walk. Big black eyes carefully look me over, then a tiny hand wobbles up and the faintest light touch grazes my sideburns. I smile. Everyone is surprised at how well "mike-san" takes care of the children. I'm never sure who is taking care of who. I also pick up Naomi-chan, about 5 months old, who is complaining loudly about laying on her back in her stroller. We gurgle and giggle at each other, and she decides this is more fun than crying. After a while, her mother realizes her husband doesn't have her, and I receive copious apologies for having to take care of her. I admit that it really isn't a problem, I enjoy it. Hamburgers, hotdogs, chicken, squid, corn--plenty of food, and with four grills going, we keep everyone eating pretty well. At another time during the afternoon, I've ended up holding Naomi-chan again. She's gumming and sucking away at one of those funny pacifiers that most of the babies seem to have now (the ones with the artistically deformed plastic nipple and the plastic gag to cover up what the kids are doing to the nipple). She lays back, working the pacifier and looking around, then her eyelids droop a bit and the tension fades out of her. She jerks awake for a moment, chewing and looking again, then relaxes again, her eyelids sliding shut, fine eyelashes slightly damp, arm falling back, limp and asleep. We spent about four hours, eating and talking, shifting as food, a stretch, or maybe a stroll around the lake moved us. It wasn't one of those events that shakes the world, it won't even make the local news, and yet...it was comfortable, it was relaxing with the trees and the tiny beach on the little lake, it was friendship with people from around the world. When we're picking up to leave, everything has a fine coat of yellow, as if gilded, or at least dusted, with gold. Maybe it's just fairy dust, helping us believe that this kind of fellowship belongs in this world. I kept a pinch of it, just to look at sometimes this week.