Woman and the feminine mystic.

The Weeping ginkgo limbs.

I sat on a beach chair with a canape on the gravel slanted flat garage roof.
I could see the ginkgo limbs swaying above me.
There was a warm breeze, and I enjoyed my view of the Dawson' babysitters.
They were topless and lying in the sun on beach chairs.

I looked down on them as they applied suntan lotion to each other.
Was this an attempt to seduce the young Dawson boys or me?
The Dawson boys had openly shown affection for each other with passionate kisses.
And had groped each other as well as other boys in front of their parents.

I wish had had babysitters like these...
But I was twenty and had been raised in a strict Irish Catholic family.
One of the babysitters remarked how I looked like Dracula, hiding from the sun.
Another remarked, "Good. Keep him away!"

My white sun block on my nose didn't add to my macho.
I did take pleasure in the occasional squirrel squeal as it leaped to an amputated ginkgo limb.
My dad was fighting the neighbor's ginkgo trees for daylight.
The absent-minded squirrel would leap before looking for the ginkgo limb.

That was a fun summer!



Bob County