Whole Wheat Bread And Clover Honey
A picnic in downtown Minneapolis in February is a difficult proposition at best, in 1970 it was near-impossible. Still, my companion of the moment, the lovely Robin, was determined. Robin of the broken tooth, Robin of the asthma inhalers, Robin of the irrepressible joy and goofy grin. We stopped at Cayol's organic food/health store and picked up our supplies. Heading out into the sleet and slush, we crossed the street and ducked into Dayton's, the leading department store in the Upper Midwest. We managed to find ourselves a little respite from the elements, a bower if you will; in reality just a stairwell for the adjacent parking ramp.
Suddenly it was spring, the winter's fury forgotten as we ate the nectar of the gods spread upon the staff of life. A beautiful young woman beside me, our hearts beating in time. Wasn't that the sound of birds singing, wasn't that the sun shining so brightly?
No, sadly no, it was only a security guard with his radio and flashlight, telling us to leave. It would never do to have so much happiness on display in a parking ramp during a Minnesota winter.