Yesterday, I leaned back. I fed my loyal Rozinante eight gallons of the good oats for which she repaid me with 432 miles of the grand beauty of this state when it is ripe for harvest. And I found solitude. So many miles without words beyond answering in the affirmative to "would you like fries with that" and later, a "Sure. Thanks." to the fellow ferry passenger who asked if I'd like him to snap the photo above, while we crossed The Wisconsin at Merrimac.
It was a cool and glorious day of the road. I relaxed my grip and didn't fall from my place on the face of this cliff.
the spotted cows
their great wisdom
- Ralph Murre