The night was young yet full and deep, when I stepped into a summer´s glade. There, a conspiracy between light and scent was already signed and sealed. A little bit to the side, close to the rand of trees, there was a dance pavilion; and like a pair of bellows it gave life to glimpses of glow, whirling with laughter and tones.

Coming close, my fear took charge and began to slow me down, yes my body revolted and had thoughts of turning around. But the sap just continued to rise and finally, floated my mind with a message that I ought to take advantage of a constellation of such unusual and promising kind. A coup d´état had been attempted but now I was back in charge, and a few moments later gently pushed around by loud drinkers and restless drifters; groups mysteriously overflowing and couples, yes those with eyes, only for themselves.

But a few steps, a stair and there I was, on the dancing floor. Oh, all those women and men! Wagging, circling, bumping and bugging around; a centrifugal force of such magnitude that my personal radar, always on the look for things for me to worry about, immediately applied a three hundred and sixty degrees overview; then instantly projected the encircled creative chaos in countless four dimensional spatial figures, and then, after a few seconds, decided to pass out.
So there I was, free to court, dance and flirt at the best of my humble capacities. And the goodess of dance, no her incarnation in all those women, bestowed me with her grace through their gentle steps and whirling smiles; through dances innumerable; at least they were to my account.

I must have been seventeen or so, and she just a bit older than that; the woman who I suddenly found sitting on my tierd knees. I guess she felt obliged to explain herself, because after a minute or so she decided to give me a smile followed by the words:we were dancing, remember? A statement I decided not to have any opinion about. Then, I guess we just felt comfortable like that; with the music, the voices and our own wordless communication, transmitted by the warmth of our bodies.

But then she said: so you want to go for a walk? Well what could I say? Seventeen, and apparently viewed as an easy prey by this kind eagle trimming her feathers right up my nose; for me? And what a woman! When her summer-dress gently played with the soft breezes and the movements of her legs, you heard a deep awesome sigh going through the high grass. And all the flowers of the sparkling fields, seemed to bow where she walked; or did they just eagerly comment on her appearance?
Anyway, she had a cute smile, playful eyes and a soft yet strong voice.
Actually, even though she was not a beauty-beauty her apparition was such that no poet has ever walked on this earth, or on those blessed fields that bright night for that matter, who could have put the scent of her hair in words. Her name was Linda; and then she leaned forward and kissed me.

Then, within a few steps and two of our eager breaths, Linda whirled away; came back, and there suddenly at bay, placed her knuckles on the hips and said: so do you want to make love to me? Apparently life has since long decided to randomly give and grace stunned and clumsy people a wild card, because even though no decodable phrases passed my lips in a minute or so, Linda said: Okey, I do not get what you are trying to say, but I will give you a fair and decent chance. And her arms swept over the blooming field.
Pick a flower Olof; whichever you want. Then tell me why and in what way it resembles me. Your chances are three, and one of your answers better be good.
Gradually taking in the essence of what Linda had said, like a flower, dizzy and confused from drought and heat, that slowly opens up to catch the drops of rain that has begun to fall, my eyes started to scan an arena of seemingly unlimited possibilites.

The first flower Linda received was brought to her by a child. And the child had chosen one that to him, was the most beautiful of them all. The eyes of a teenager then; applying his newly acquired shrewdness; born out of a sudden loss of innocence, decided to pick the one he thought Linda herself would enjoy the most. Well, after that second try there was only one chance left. So the teenager in some way exceeded himself; transcended into a new way of thinking that he in an instant decided was a mature one.
Linda should receive the most obscure and insignificant flower he could find. But then his words should make it stand out as equal to, yes surpass the light, the air, even the sun itself of this midsummers eve. A couple of sentences, and it would stand clear to Linda that she was the actual object of praise and admiration.

-nonsense! Linda´s verdict was clear. And that despite the fact that I had not yet compared her to the graceful movements of the roe´s at the edge of the woods. Great! I said, as the sky fell down, the music died and the wind turned cold. -I blow it; made pancakes of it all!
-pancakes! That´s the answer said Linda. Why didn´t you say that earlier? That a woman, young and cute, or any person at all, for that matter, carried a secret dream to be regarded as a pancake, might be a galaxy among millions of others in the universe of a child. For me though, it was light years beyond my cognitive reach.

-a pancake is a very admirable thing you see; it attracts you, yes it´s good for you in quite a few ways: the smell, the inspiring forms it can take; the warmth radiating from it; not to mention the taste. You like pancakes Olof? And last but not the least, it nourish you; keeps you going.
And that´s what I want to be in life, said Linda, and gave me the first serious look for the evening. -a warm, smart and helpful person. I just can´t understand though, how that flower made you think of pancakes? I don´t know if it was the sap, the conspiracy between light and scent, or a lack of nutritious pancakes, but I could swear that I saw a playful glint in Linda´s eyes.

-you see the grazing roe´s over there; close to the woods? Looks like a nice grove just besides. Looks inviting to me, or what do you say? When I grabbed Linda´s hand I could feel the warmth. The scent of her hair was all over when she suddenly said: you see Olof, there´s a lot of hard work and pancakes to be done, if you want someone to walk with you among all the flowers and through the high grass.