Fox River

Once I left the border of the golf course, I continued down the path to the Fox River. A main artery of the far west suburbs, the Fox was once a location of boating, beaches, and getaway locations for city dwellers. I recall a swimming beach that I visited nearly 50 years ago, further north, right on the banks of the Fox.
One snap shows the west bank across the river; the other shows the golfing geese, having risen, cutting across the deep blue sky.
The next post will be time for some animal photography.

Horse and Hound Cemetery

The on-site Horse and Hound Cemetery is in a shady, peaceful location north of the cluster of farm buildings seen in the previous post. The family dogs are at rest there along one side, and several of the McCormick horses are at rest to the other side of the fenced area and even beyond the fence into the treed area. One horse not belonging to the family is also buried and memorialized here.

The Honda won the St. James Steeplechase in 1985 and returned here to defend his title in 1986 after winning the St. Louis Steeplechase in that season. Owner Bob Oery, listing himself also as rider and friend, laid The Honda to rest here after his death during the event. Guide Ron Skleney brought up the dangerous nature of the event, with the death of a horse not being an uncommon event. Looking at the plaque attached to the cross one can easily see the emotion and love of the owner for the animal.

Our next post will look at another aspect of riding at St. James, one that will touch your heart.

A Different Sort of Architecture

It was cool but quite sunny this morning, and I was out of the house early. Several churches in St. Charles, Illinois, work together on a Habitat For Humanity project and this was the first Saturday I was available to swing a hammer and snap some photographs. It was a rewarding day.

A well-planned floor layout is complete for a cozy but excellent two-story frame home. This morning as I arrived, a few people were busy with the sound of hammering and others were waiting for someone to tell them what to do. The hammering was plenty loud as it should have been, as a crew was literally raising the roof. Leaving the climbing to younger volunteers, I grabbed the camera and got a different view of architecture altogether. Friendly and warm, the entire crew welcomed the new volunteers and before long I knew it was time to put the Nikon away and crack out the Craftsman.

A few hours later, a wall had been built, placed, and anchored to divide the Great Room from the Kitchen; and a guest closet had been studded out, located, and nailed into place. I have no photographs of the event as the hammer and the camera do not mesh well at any given time. But of course I have the memories of the wall building -- and no doubt tomorrow I will have the soreness of the muscles that had not hammered for some time. The ache will surely "Hurt So Good."

Back to larger buildings -- though perhaps NOT more significant ones -- in the next post.