Bikini Winds

I don't know how she does it while Santa Anas gust. Her skin should look like leather the color of the Speaker of the House. Walking as she does daily during the heat of the day with ear buds in place, no hat and the barest of bikinis, the comely woman strolls down the center of the frontage road next to the campground. She is in no hurry evidently and steps out at a leisurely pace.

Having briefly glanced her way nineteen or so times (remember the eye cannot trespass), I have often wondered to what is she listening. Is it Euro trance music? A mantra loop? Also, I wonder if her bikini is made from sun resistant material? What sunscreen does she use, if any? Why doesn't she wear sunglasses? Shouldn't she be wearing corrective shoes to prevent her swaying gait? Wouldn't over the shoulder straps offer more support than a halter top? 

These persistent questions will never be asked and answered. They are the product of a mind affected by Bikini winds.