goldenrod and red tape

In the now three decades that I have lived in Madison, the place that I have most often ran to, just to escape city noise and dust has been Indian Lake. With the family. Alone. With daughters. With others. With Ed. Many times, in all seasons.

And I am never disappointed.

True, this brilliant Sunday, every scrap of pasture was going to look bucolic and divine. But, but Indian Lake is especially superb in early fall!





Really.











And so my daughter and I did the usual long loop...











...and the sun was warm, and the scenery exceptional – in every direction...






...and as the day progressed, slowly I got used to the idea of being the owner of a car with red tape pretending to be a bumper guard. Ed spent the day detailing the machine and the door now opens from inside and out. Here you have it, our fleet of vehicles – the old Geo with the pink stripes, the even older Honda,  joined this week-end by the old Ford with the red tape.





It was a tiny bit fun registering the car today and watching the clerk cast a doubtful glance at the stated purchase price (so that I could pay my taxes on the transaction). Really, it’s not worth a penny more – I told her, handing over registration money that equaled one third the cost of the car. She’s used to that line. Most often, I imagine, people underreport. Not me. $600. Not a penny more.