But I wasn't in San Francisco today. Today I had a beer on the Wisconsin Union Terrace with my old boss (she and I got along really well). There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was 60 degrees, bright, and sunny. The campus looks gorgeous—everything is in bloom, and the kids are smiling and happy to be done with winter. There were also a conspicious number of guys in Favre jerseys (commemerating the good news).
I knew I missed Madison. I had just forgotten how much. May, June, and July are when Madison wins its awards. Those months almost make winter worth it.
I walked along the Lakeshore Path back to the University Housing offices with my boss, then hopped a bus to the Capitol to meet Kzo. We ambled through the Capitol building and down State Street, stopping to buy new shoes (I finally threw out my Chuck Taylors from high school), to see the new Madison Museum of Contemporary Art, and to pick up my car. We stopped at Monty's Blue Plate Diner (one of my favorite restaurants in the city), then I dropped off Kzo and headed north out of Dane County on my way back to Wisconsin Rapids, my hometown.
The sun was setting during my two-hour drive, casting long, dramatic shadows across the rolling farmland flanking the interstate. Silhouettes of farmhouses and silos would roll by on the horizon.
I've made that drive hundreds of times, oftentimes never even contemplating the scenery. We get to taking it for granted, I guess.
I don't ever remember it being that pretty.