streets of gold

I love driving back to campus from Wisconsin in the evening. If I can leave about a half hour before dusk, I'll be traveling due west at sunset. The amber and fiery rose sky fills my windshield, and I want to stare directly into the sun, until I start to lose the road and have to look away.

This time the ride was especially beautiful--the recent snowfall had melted from the road, leaving it bare except for the tiniest film of moisture that spread like a glaze over the highway. It was just enough so the sunset could be reflected--between the black silhouettes of trees the road became shining gold that faded into a dusty rose as the sun sank lower.