Tonight my excellent friends and I piled into their car for a field trip to one of our favorite restaurants, an hour's drive to the northeast through fields and tiny towns and sprawled rippling farms dotted with cows. The corn's green thickens. The wheat fields turn toward yellowing. At the end of our journey, a street fair full of motorcycles and live music, a whole other world happening just around the corner from the plate glass sealing us in with our lovely artisanal food, each dish laden with layers of unexpected flavor, or of the expected done perfectly.
On the drive home, I clicked my lens to manual focus and sought to catch our coming.