The Enchanted Trail

It was yet another perfect day in the most perfect city on Earth, in this best of all possible worlds!

Well, let's not get carried away. And if you're a Californian who's considering making the move, I should clarify that "the most perfect city on Earth" is used, here, in an ironic sense. This town is a shithole. For real! Now go read TMZ.

Cheryl's Bitch and I met up on the hike-and-bike trail for a nice leisurely stroll in the sunshine. The weather couldn't have been more perfect (though I hear it's much nicer in California), and everybody and their dog were out enjoying the day.

I'm a cat person, of course. Cheryl's Bitch is more into turtles. But the hike-and-bike trail has taught me to be fond of dogs: they're so infectiously happy, running, playing, swimming, fetching, and sniffing the living bejeesus out of each other's butts. You can't help but smile to see them. At the water station under the MoPac bridge, a few of them came up to be petted, exuding eau de wet canine, panting eagerly, and slobbering in my lap.

Makes me feel a bit better about not having a boyfriend.

Austin's turtles come out in droves to enjoy the sunshine, too, piling up like flapjacks on the rocks and logs lining the shore, turning their heads lazily this way and that to observe the passerby. Cheryl's Bitch got so excited I thought he might dive into the water in pursuit, and I have to admit they are a lot cuter than I ever really noticed before. One caught my eye, his neck craned back to look at me, one leg stretched out behind him in the sun, toes extended, beaming blissfully.

I was overcome. "Ooh," I cooed, "isn't him a pretty boy! Yes him is! Yes him is!"

This felt surprisingly natural.

Along the portion of the trail running parallel to Cesar Chavez we could see the tents and booths set up for the Art City Austin festival. And on the bridge over Shoal Creek, the most amazing band was playing: something folksy, with an Eastern European feel to it (I thought), but I wouldn't be able to guess what it was, aside from beautiful.

Who were they, anybody know? They had their backs to me, so I couldn't make out any words, and can't find reference to them online. Were they Greek maybe? The music was incredible. I settled myself on the bank to hear them finish their set, while Cheryl's Bitch roamed to and fro, ogling turtles. A black swan with a vivid scarlet beak and orange-red eyes glided up, easily within arm's reach, peeping hopefully; I wasn't sure if she were quacking at me, or just had the hiccups. She clearly thought I might have something nice for her to eat. Alas for lack of foresight! You should never leave home without your pockets full of bread crumbs. Waterfowl always enjoy a snack, you know; and besides, you never know when you'll find yourself lost in an enchanted forest.

If the band's set hadn't ended, I'd be sitting there still. What could be more perfect? Aside of course from California. If only I were in California. This place blows.