I saw them lounging on the shore of Brandt’s Creek, two thirteen-somethings barely visible in the arms of what seemed to be a tryst. It was a hot day and I noticed them, as I rode past slowly on my bicycle, nonchalantly peering over at me as if I’d distrubed something private. In a burst of intuition I simply smiled and thought, “Young love…”
A few minutes later I decided to end my exploration of the new neigbourhood that had been springing up around the creek. I wheeled back down the dirt path that traced the tree and bush lined waterway and saw them again ambling across the street in a way that was simultaneously endearing and funny.
She, in short-short white pants and tangerine T-shirt – long honey-blonde hair cascading on her shoulders, was literally head and shoulder taller than he; while he, black calf-length pants, and baseball cap askew, held her buttock in his hand. I giggled inside and couldn’t help but look back -her left arm draped over his shoulder, his right hand still in position – both practicing romance; perhaps seeking a more secluded hideaway, on a hot hot afternoon.