To Wander; an Experience

I am an inveterate city-wanderer;

give me a city, and I will wander it.

Hence, tipped off by my cab driver,

I made time pre-conference on Saturday morning

for the farmer's market lining the Capitol Square.

I have been to many a farmer's market,

but I say without hesitation:

This one was the best.

I thought: I would move here,

for the produce alone.

I enjoyed this lemon blueberry muffin

 from the Capitol steps,

and, since I am also an inveterate people watcher,

I watched the people frolic and ogle and play, 

grateful for such an experience to start my day.

There were other Madison moments to dwell in

as I walked back and forth on State Street every day.

It's a city pretty cool,

but also just plain pretty.

There was this bookstore I couldn't keep myself from wandering in and out of, sometimes multiple times a day,

with a wide variety of interest

[the author of the Wonder Woman book was our conference opening speaker, in what is guaranteed one of the best talks I've ever attended...]

and many books I forced myself to leave behind.

[Many books, for better or for worse, I did not...]

My most satisfying wandering occurred the afternoon after Taliesin,

when I had no obligations, and a next-morning flight.

I left my hotel and headed to the bookstore [of course].

Then, I wended over to the gelato place,

chocolate hazelnut calling my name [in Italian].

I took my gelato with me to the water,

and stood along the wall enjoying the breeze and the geese

just outside of this convention center 

designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.

It was the plan left on his drawing board when he died,

but it wasn't built until the '90s;

it includes a circular parking deck

as well as a rooftop view.

With the Capitol on one side

and the water on the other,

it was a lovely place

to pull out a [new] book and read.

Eventually I got hungry,

and took myself to a Peruvian bistro I had scoped out earlier.

It was an excellent decision on my part,

as it was the most delicious dinner of a very delicious weekend.

[I've had many a dinner, but this one...]

Eventually I wandered home, 

with the plan of sitting on the patio of the hotel 

before retiring for the evening.

A brewing storm kept me inside,

but the view was just as good

and really quite dramatic.

When my bones were weary and my lightning show over,

I had my sweetly attentive waiter bring me over a parting bourbon,

and took it with me to my bed.

And listen.

I've had many a glass of bourbon,

but all of the others?

Were just plain wrong.

This one--I tell no lies--was the best.

The next morning I breakfasted in the hotel,

experienced out.

I climbed into a giant SUV,

chauffeured to the airport by a sweetly young guy,

trying to figure out his life.

I spent the day flying,

indulging in more people watching.

And when all was said and done I thought:
So grateful for the experience,

so happy to be home.