Two ducks had their heads in the shallow water, the dark head crest of the third one, continuing down the back of its neck between the paler side feathers made it look like a young black man with a box cut. Very stylish, I thought , complimented it in my mind.  Shyly, he hid his  head in the water. Another lifted it’s head and looked at me. I looked at it.  Our intense scrutiny made her shuffle her feet in the water. I queried her  telepathically. With a tail wiggle,  she put her head under. The ducks continued skimming the shallow sandy bottom for food.

I walked over the damp grass to my favorite tree, It too has felt the ravages of time and temperature and is split at the base, with several levels of interior structure  around the innermost long shaft. A shelf mushroom grows at the top of the cleft. I leaned against its leaning trunk, and watched another person on the path. Were they male or female, or ungendered ?? I wondered. At Quaker Spiritual Formation Group, we had heard from Kay about the new gender statuses:
ungendered – identifying with no particular gender
cisgendered – identifying with the gender assigned to you at birth
trans – moving between genders.
These are not the same as the already existing terms for sexual preference.
Later, the same flat chested, pear shaped person, with short blond hair and gender neutral clothes exchanged a warm smile with me – we recognised kindred spirits. I guessed they might be exulting in gender neutrality, ungendered, after a double mastectomy.  No need for a burqua now – to be free of gender assigned presuppositions.

I danced my jerky robot flow dance  to the radio waves of a chap in the gazebo. He had a black tshirt and a long red braid. His girl friend whose teeth were not expensively dentured, stretched out along the same park bench. They were 80’s children, born in the 70’s .
“What IS this ?”
“D. R. I.” He answered, “ like when the floor is wet, and you put up a sign saying D.r.i..”
“That ….. that is…. that’s totally messed up.” I said. We all laughed.

A kid ran on stocky little legs up the path. Parents were nowhere in sight. Then I spied a mother pushing a large carriage with two other small children nearby going as fast as she could up the hill. As a Trump advertisement bombasted, I ran to head off the toddler before he got to the road.
Scooping him up in my arms and setting him down, we were panting and laughing, I asked him , “What’s your name”
“Is that your sister?”
“what’s her name?”
“I dont know.”
WHAT, I think. The little girl runs up to us. “Are you his sister” I ask? She replies in the affirmative, her name is Iris, and she says his name is Theo. “We have an aunt called Theo”.
Hmm I think.
Two mothers pushing multi baby carriages and with a scattering of other small children come up alongside us. We all continue on our way. I wave a conspiratorial goodbye to IanTheo.

I think of whether I should talk to the 80’s kids in the park about voting. Decide against it. My mind considers the candidates and imagines, Trump winning and revealing his friendship with Hillary has turned into an affair. Now America moves…His childish understanding of world politics moderated by her experience, his vaunted determination to protect American workers and end bad trade deals shaped in a way that improves conditions for workers world wide, his ignorant conception of America as a leader turned towards a green energy revolution;  yeah and Trump and Clinton’s love child comes out of hiding and leads America in a 60’s hippie dream of an earth restored. Peace and Love Man!

I am in your head


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