Wineries in Iowa? and Other Lessons of the GRT

After a lovely visit in Indiana, I went up to the great state of Missouri. There, I got to have lunch and catch up briefly with Bear, a friend from college who I hadn't seen in two years. Bear has the same sense of humor, kindness, and love of hot wings that I first cherished in our friendship, but he also seems to have gained some wisdom since I saw him last. I can't explain how I gained that impression, and perhaps it was just seeing him through two years of separation, but I was impressed by his self-assurance and acceptance of the situations around him. It made me proud to be his friend.

From there I went on to Kansas City, where I visited art museums with an artist friend of mine, C. I had seen C's work before, but I'd never heard him explain other people's works. He is not only well-versed in art history and knowledgeable about the pieces we viewed in the two Kansas City art museums, he's also very skilled at explaining the works in ways that ordinary people can understand. He likened the different methods and movements to food and music, helping me to understand the pieces in new ways. I could almost taste and smell the paintings as well as see them.

Along the way, I drove through the city where I went to school. It was strange to see the exits again, to recognize the signs for restaurants and stores where I once ate and drank with friends, places that shaped my life for four years. Most of all, I was amazed at the feelings that washed over me as I spotted the smokestack on the horizon that always, to me, signaled that I had returned to school. As I sped across the pavement, I though of the small brick residence hall near the base of that smokestack where I learned so many lessons. That building was once a cherished haven for me, the place where I could return when I felt torn between my childhood self and the adult I knew I had to become. I remembered all the deep conversations and self-revelations I uncovered in those cinder-block rooms, and my vision was blurred with the faces of people who challenged me to be myself, many of whom I have failed to maintain contact with. I learned so much on that campus. I transformed from a high school caterpillar to a world-ready butterfly in that academic cocoon. And, as I watched that city fade in my rearview mirror, I knew that the city held memories, but no future for me.

I drove on to Iowa, where my friend A has chased her dream to a Wildlife Refuge. She is one of the brave people in my acquaintance who know what they want and throw their whole selves into achieving that. We spent several days catching up, making small road trips around the region to the Omaha Zoo and to Pipestone National Monument in Minnesota. And she revealed to me that there is a fledgling wine industry in Iowa, so we had wine-tasting adventures in the Midwest. While she works, I get to explore the prairies, wetlands, and expansive farms that make up the landscapes here. And even this slightly hilly land, cut by rivers, where most people just see endless cornfields, is beautiful to me.