My Day of Wine (almost) and Roses

 I decided to pack a picnic and my paints and to go where ever the day took me. I got on my bike and headed to the Plaza. It was alive with lovers, old folks, tourists, moms and dads, babies, teenagers, rich, poor... and kids, all kinds of kids on bikes, trikes, skateboards,scooters-you name it. There were nappers, readers, picnickers, meditaters, writers, painters-you name it! Everyone goes to the Plaza. It is, in the truest sense of the word, the heart of this beautiful and serene town. As I munched on my picnic lunch, it occurred to me that every town should have a plaza, much like this one. A place that houses a playground, multitudes of benches and picnic tables, green shady spaces, water pools, fountains, flower gardens.-you name it. A sacred and serene social hub where all feel welcome and  safe.
I smelled every variety of rose that there was to smell in the rose garden. I was not alone. Many Plaza goers were breathing in the delicious and different fragrances and ohhhing and ahhhing with delight. Lots of "Oh, you've got to smell this one" and "Don't miss those tangerine colored ones". No one could contain their pleasure in this beautiful rose garden.
I decided to head out to Bartholomew Park Winery. The ride was just as gorgeous as the day (80 and sunny, remember, every day!). As I huffed and puffed to get up to this lovely spot on the top of the hill, I thought ,what in the hell am I doing? I can't taste wine and maneuver this mountain bike. So, I entered the tasting room and bellied up to the wine bar. The kind winery worker asked me "What would you like to taste today?" Panting, and with my sweat dripping on the wine bar, I said in a most grateful tone that I could conjure, "Water, pleeeeaaasssseee!" And he said "Geez, you must have just ridden up that killer hill". Case closed!