Written 8:30 pm, Monday Night....

I’m sitting on the broad front porch of the cafeteria at the close of what has been, at least from a weather perspective, the perfect day. Even with the sun down I had to debate if I really needed the sweatshirt or not.

The dim lights on the porch shine only a few feet past the railing. Out in the dark, the goats do battle over the last tin can. The city glows faintly on the horizon, backlighting the trees. The stars are bright, and at the other end of the porch, an intern strums a guitar.

If I squint my eyes and tilt my head at a 45 degree angle, I’m someplace else.. The city lights transform into aurora borealis, the goats become elk up above the tree line. The 3 chord progression at the other end of the porch morphs into something by Lyle Lovett. I’m not in Maryland. I’m in Wyoming. And life is good.

In a little while, I’ll pack up my iBook – the glowing Apple so very out of place here in Wyoming – and head back to my gym foyer bunkhouse where my lady and 3 little cowboys are already asleep. Just before I climb in bed, chances are that I’ll fail to resist the temptation to check the weather and headlines on the cell phone as I plug it in to the charger...and I’ll be yanked back to reality.

How in the world did I get here? Maryland. The District. One way streets that change direction at 4 pm. Five dollar lattes in storefront destinations that encourage us to support third world causes. Security on every corner and half the rooftops. No elk for two thousand miles.

If I’m smart, I’ll take one last peek at the three little cowboys....because when I do, Wyoming or Maryland, life is good.

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