6I walked slowly along the narrow, well worn, dirt trails that wound through the bushes and trees on the upper eastern slope of Buena Vista Park.
I glanced at one man sitting shirtless in the sun and sheltered from the cool afternoon breeze. In the underbrush I noticed part of a shirt and the back of a head bobbing up and down. Most of the men I saw were still cruising.
I ducked to pass through a tunnel of greenery, straightening up when I reached the end and brushing the dust from my jeans. A man with brown curly hair and a beard who looked like Pan in overalls was seated on the low branch of a tree close by. He was smiling and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Hi, he said his eyes wide as I approached.
Beautiful day, isn’t it?
Yes, he said still staring at me. I’m Tommy.
George
Good
