if i could write songs...

...I'd write one about today.

But unfortunately, I don't possess that gift. So I'm just going to describe it to you.

Lola and I went for a walk downtown. It was perfect: sunny, comfortably cool, warm but not enough to break a sweat. Jeans and t-shirt (and scarf!) and sunglasses weather.

We took a lap around the courthouse square and passed the Java Roaster where there are ALWAYS people sitting around outside, which is one of the reasons I love the place so much. Today it was a friendly older man who gave Lola a good ear-scratch, a very school-of-ag looking student studying a text book, and a couple of biker dudes.

Lola and I turned the corner and headed toward the pedestrian bridge, passing Red Seven where people were enjoying the most scrumptious cuisine I have ever smelled. We decided to work up an appetite and started across the bridge.

As we climbed the depot stairs, a train passed underneath us, which is always fun for some reason. Lola looked so cute climbing up and down the stairways that got us to the pedestrian bridge. Something about those wrinkly little legs hopping steps and those perky little ears flopping and that pink tongue sticking out sideways just gets me!

We said hello to another older gentleman who was resting next to his walking cane on a bench in the middle of the bridge, and we met a dad with a beautiful baby girl in a stroller.

Then we walked past what looked like a yoga class in session on the west side of the bridge. It was the most ragtag group I'd ever seen, but they seemed to be enjoying learning their poses. Next to them sat two scruffy guys who were drinking who knows what out of a paper bagged bottle. One of them asked me if I was single and I laughed as we walked away (quickly).

It was shady and cool at the other end of the bridge, so I gave Lola some water and sat on a bench to read a few chapters of a Jane Austen book. Then it was time to go back.

We ran into three teenage kids who liked Lola. One of them asked me if I wanted to hear a song and I said yes. He pulled out a guitar and sang and played "No Rain" by Blind Melon and it was pretty good! He attracted a little crowd there on the bridge as he played.

After the song, we moved on, pausing to say hi to a family with two adorable little kids. They had cameras with them; obviously a perfect day and setting for some pictures.

We crossed the bridge and passed Red Seven again on the way back to the car. People looked so classy sitting on the patio under the square umbrellas, all dressed up for a special night out. The servers sailed around the tables removing and replacing big, square, steaming dishes that smelled irresistible.

We walked past the Lafayette Theater where a skinny guy in the ticket booth was eating a plate of noodles. I smiled at him and he smiled back. Then we went across the street and found the car. Lola climbed into my lap, which I usually don't allow when I'm driving. But this time I rolled my window down and let her hang her tongue out the window as we climbed 4th Street to the apartment buildings.

Now Lola is asleep, snoring her adorable pug snore on her little blue bed. I've got the living room window open. I can hear voices and dinner plates clinking through other open windows in the building. The crickets and every other insect in nature with a sound to make are creating little symphonies out in the woods. I love that sound.

Now it's dinner time and I know that as soon as I cross over the baby gate into the kitchen, Lola will wake up and start jumping around in anticipation of food. Then the sound of the skillet and the kitchen faucet will drown out the summer sounds coming through the window. Before I know it, it will be time for work.

So I'm going to hang on to this peaceful moment just a little bit longer.