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Here is the photograph and my story:
Quonset Under the Kumquat
As anybody knows by now, I love Buck more than anyone on this earth. It’s easy to love him. In our own ways, we are both imperfect.
That first summer he moved in with his Aunt – onto our Bayou after his parents died – we fell into something that later turned out to be love.
Right against the pond, on his Aunt’s land, was an old Quonset hut. It was left over from the war days. The Navy had plunked them along the river and onto our park lands.
Some sailor had planted a kumquat tree next to the hut. And that’s where Buck first kissed me. Just outside that old tin hut when the kumquat was blooming.