|We began stopping at each of the roadside historical markers located along Rte.35. It seemed like a good idea at first, but there were so many. We eventually stopped stopping.|
|Here's the bow and arrow.|
Both Heather and I tend to get in the car and head for a destination. That's not how it is when I ride the Symba. Heather has heard me speak of this different quality of experience. I think we were trying on doing the drive home differently, trying to bring to it some of the wandering childlike wonder I experience when riding my Symba.
|We really did turn around and try for that photo that would have just gone by too fast to catch (even if the photo didn't quite work).|
But the treasure of the day was Fountain City.
The place that drew us was just a boat launch. But this day there seemed to be a magic about it. This day it was Brigadoon. I suspect we will never be able to go back again. The little islands will still be there. The dock will still be there. Still it will never be the same as it was for us on this singular overcast Autumn day.
After we left Fountain City we didn't stop until we stopped for the night. It was well after dark.
And, we were back in Iowa.