Thursday, November 15, 2012

In the matter of trees. And other things.

When I was leaving for work this morning -- hurrying, hurrying, I worried about photos. And stories. (If there are photos, there will be stories and if there are stories then there need not be photos, but this day was threatening to have neither.)

So I took a photo early, just as I was leaving, in case this would be it for the day. Trees. Whatever the season, it's always worthwhile to consider the trees.

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Okay, so off I go on Rosie, my skirts flying, my gloved hands gripping tightly, zipping quickly, late, late, I'm going to be late for my morning class, hurry! No way can I stop, but ohhhhh, it would be nice if I could -- just for a photo of the lake that I pass each morning (Lake Monona). I know! I can just stick out my camera to the side as I scoot along John Nolen Drive! (For those who don't know, said Drive has a speed limit of 45 mph and Rosie does only 40, so it's always a challenge to hold one's own amidst all the speeding bullets.)

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The work day ends. The sun has set and I have just a couple of errands, including picking up spinach from my winter CSA (we get biweekly spinach from a local farmer all winter long) and this puts me pretty close to the other lake, just after sunset. This is it, lake Mendota -- the lake I used to pass daily when I lived at the condo but one I pretty much ignore now that I live south of Madison.

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Chores done, I am now at a place that is sort of on campus but not really -- an eatery that, though on campus, is not serviced by campus food delivery systems (which is a good thing). I'm here to have dinner with a friend and as we both tend to take out cameras at odd times and we do so now.

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And then dinner ends and I am on Rosie again and it is cold and I am tired and I knew it would be cold and I would be tired, but if I can just endure this last ride… oh, but I don't have to just endure it: it's quite beautiful out there at night, especially when we hit the dark rural roads leading up to the farmette.

But it is cold. I'm happy to be home. Ed is there, waiting, with a smudge on his face and the same old hi gorgeous that warms me through and through.