We were strolling in Foster Park and I suggested that we walk through the flower garden. So far, the only flowers blooming were the daffodils but it was lovely and quiet and peaceful. We wandered into the bridal glen and settled on the bench wrapped in each other's arms and enjoyed the birdsong and the aerobatic show being staged by the bats in the dusk. It was so perfect until two other couples wandered into the flower garden. They might have been a little tipsy, they were loud and their urban vernacular was liberally sprinkled with the too common mf expression. For a moment I suffered this inner turmoil resenting their intrusion and guilt for feeling that way. They sauntered into the bridal glen and that's when the fun began. They were about halfway through the open area in front of the bridal glen when they stopped, and the arm waving, shrieking, and retreat began. At first J thought we were the reason for the speedy withdrawal, but it soon became apparent they were petrified of the bats. Even the two men, big hulking football types, beat a hasty retreat. I was already laughing so hard that I couldn't talk, then Jay started doing imitations of them and I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. We listened to them fussing and shrieking about the bats all the way back to their car which only made me giggle and guffaw all the louder!