Lost in the Land of Blue

I had a really good plan when I set out on the green Speedster today: follow the eastern curve of Lake Monona. From my bike map, I could tell that the designated paths more or less followed the lake, and so I set off.

The plan was to bike for forty minutes total, which would allow me to meet my self-imposed minimum of one hour's vigorous exercise per day (the other twenty of which were completed with a brisk walk earlier). I began by following the designated bike path, and despite no good views of the lake, I was enjoying myself. But then I saw a sign that read "Lake Loop," and, thinking it would give a really good view of the lake, I took it.

The "lake loop" took me to another town, I think, judging by the blue street signs instead of green, and did not offer a single glimpse of any water. After thirty minutes of wandering in the town of blue signs, I turned around and made my way back to the original trail.

Near my apartment, I noticed a sign for the Atwood Community Garden. Behind it were rows and rows (or clumps and clumps, more accurately) of tomatoes, zucchini, sunflowers and other vegetables. Many were rotting on the vine, yet others were immaculately kept. It got me thinking.