Wisconsin in June

Typing in the guest bedroom with the concrete floors, fluffy blankets.
Basement, corner of the house. Middle of the woods.
It's been cool here, windy. Wildflowers--hot orange, little purple kisses.
Out running in sunshine, but it feels crowded. Trees brilliant--
but they hang over me, casting shadows, hiding the lake.
A toothless man in a van pulls up next to me.
I usually do not stop for this type of thing, but in America's
Dairyland...He tells me there's a bear ahead, so I 180.
I look up to find a dragonfly halo.

In town I remember sitting on the bench at the marketplace.
The old time candy shop. I wish I could bottle the smell.
It hasn't changed since I was four. The barrels of Bullseyes,
taffy baskets, cashew brittle on wax paper. Jars of gummy sharks.

Late sun on the porch. Two big ol' dogs.
My dad eats a sandwich quietly across from me.

Anchorage

It feels like Alaska is still selling itself. Like, every corner has "Alaskan halibut!" signs. But, like, this is YOUR city, Alaska. Don't you know you have fish? It feels disingenuous everything is moose-themed and gift shops are more abundant than what the people require (shoe repair? groceries?).

"Be who you are" and "Say what you mean" seem to be the two most prominent themes of my trip so far. Either because that's what I'm being shown or simply what I'm seeing.

Motorbike to cemetery.
Picnic on wild berries.
French toast with molasses.
Croque and baked Alaskas.

Side: extremely spotty updating as the second leg of my trip begins.