We took a walk after dinner and found ourselves on a street off the main road. The smooth wide black pavement gave way to narrow cobblestone pathways. Exhaust notes of cars and scooters succumbed to the buffeting aesthetic of the neighborhood.  The air hung with peace and the evening breeze listened to the quiet conversations of the lining flats.  It must have been around 9pm as the sun was finally starting to set.   Walls once cream colored now radiated with a golden aura from the failing rays.  As I looked up a large window on the 5^th floor of the building to my right opened. A beautiful woman emerged with wavy brown hair that just barely rested on the straps of her vibrant green summer dress .  She leaned out and called to a friend approaching from down the street.  I couldn’t turn my head to see whom she was yelling out to. I was captivated at what was above me.  This scene held my greatest attention. This woman, the colors, the sounds, the feel of the street, the touch of the cooling air. This is what the movies, the literature, and the nostalgic friends try to describe to you.  I started up again down the street, made a left at the next main road, and continued my walk through Paris.