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           SpringislateandsummerlateatNewBaytown,butwhenitcomesithasasoft,wild,andspecialsoundandsmellandfeeling.InearlyJunetheworldofleafandbladeandflowersexplodes,andeverysunsetisdifferent.Thenintheeveningthebobwhitesstatetheircrispnamesandafterdarkthereisawallofsoundofwhippoorwill.Theoaksgrowfatwithleafandflingtheirlong-tasseledblossomsinthegrass.Thendogsfromvarioushousesmeetandgoonpicnics,wanderingbemusedandhappyinthewoods,andsometimestheydonotcomehomefordays.

           InJuneman,hustledbyinstinct,mowsgrass,rifflestheearthwithseeds,andlocksincombatwithmoleandrabbit,ant,beetle,bird,andallotherswhogathertotakehisgardenfromhim.Womanlooksatthecurling-edgepetalsofaroseandmeltsalittleandsighs,andherskinbecomesapetalandhereyesarestamens.

           Juneisgay—coolandwarm,wetandshoutingwithgrowthandreproductionofthesweetandthenoxious,thebuilderandthespoiler.Thegirlsinbody-formslackswandertheHighStreetwithlockedhandswhilesmalltransistorradiossitontheirshouldersandwhinelovesongsintheirears.Theyoungboys,bleedingwithsap,sitonthestoolsofTanger’sDrugstoreingestingfuturepimplesthroughstraws.Theywatchthegirlswithlevelgoat-eyesandmakedisparagingremarkstooneanotherwhiletheirinsideswhimperwithlonging.

           InJunebusinessmendropbyAl’n’Sue’sortheForemasterforabeerandstayforwhiskyandgetsweatilydrunkintheafternoon.