In early fall, Corey and I had a wonderful time camping at Wildcat Mountain State Park. It was really an amazing weekend with the leaves just beginning to color. Everything had that early October feel where it makes perfect sense to wash down an apple cider donut with some apple cider while picking up a peck of apples from your favorite apple orchard (and that my friends is a new world record for saying apples in one sentence).

We love Chicago. But sometimes it feels good stepping away from the noise into something a little bit wilder. In this case it was the Driftless region of Wisconsin which is one of the few unglaciated points in the Midwest. It is, dare I say, mountainous with towns strung out across valleys deep enough that you lose your signal. In one such town, Ontario, we stumbled upon a great poutine-like lunch of barbecue (for Corey it was Mac and cheese) and baked potato with plenty of jalapenos. It was delicious.

There was though one moment where the horror of it all seeped through the fall foliage. It was at the Wild Cat Grill where we saw a man with a MAGA hat. Ain’t nothing particularly special about that, but at that exact same time I was reading about peaceful protestors being tear gassed in the city. Did he know what was going on? If so, was he at all embarrassed? Or was he celebrating this assault on decency?

Truth be told, I also felt a bit guilty. Not just for our beautiful weekend away in the country but also for the knowledge that we probably won’t be the ones dragged away by the secret police. At least not in the short-term. And it’s not because we are US citizens. At least 170 US citizens and counting have been detained, many for several days at a time and without access to a lawyer. No, it’s because we don’t look foreign enough.  If that ain’t privilege then I don’t know what is.

But mostly Corey and I didn’t talk about the world. We did things like drink wine by a fire and watch the sunset from an overlook not too far from our tent. While doing so on the first night  we made friends. On the second night we shared the setting sun with an Amish family, their buggy parked nearby. That night was cloudy but it was still a comfort watching the valley swallow up the light. It felt good to be so small, to be a part of the world without the burden of any responsibility. I fear such future moments will be few and far between.