It was a sunny and breezy day. Actually, the wind was gusting to 30 knots when Vincent and eight crew members attempted to neatly fold a tarp on the rear tee of the Club's practice facility. One such blow billowed the tarp and it unfurled to cover the crew, the range picker vehicle and the Forsythias at the back of the tee. Vincent thought of the work of Christo and Jeanne-Claude. They had wrapped, among other things, The Reichstag in Berlin.
Was this a fortunate stroke of serendipity? Was this art? Did it matter? Vincent smiled and began to softly sing a song:
There was a farmer who had a dog,
And Bingo was his name-o.
B-I-N-G-O
B-I-N-G-O
B-I-N-G-O
And Bingo was his name-o.
