The air was so clear in Madison this morning, the people to happy, the light on the water so magical. Is it real? Surely a place cannot be so perfect.
Back in Cincinnati. As many hours on the road in the last day as we were at our destination. Hours of well-loved music, NPR, car-made peanut butter sandwiches, and testing of every chain of truck stop along the way. It feels right and good to be here, but not sure what is happening next--tomorrow, this week, or year. A tired mind conjectures.
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