Wednesday, March 22, 2006

peaceful



This rural roadway is spared from the construction pictured in yesterdays entry. This spot is about 12 miles away....but a million miles in terms of tranquility. The light of dusk turns the muddy water in the low spot in the farmers field into mercury. A single car travels the miles of roadway, all alone. It's quiet except for the shriek of an unseen predator and the barking of a dog in the distance.

After the sun goes down the sounds change. Late in the night the coyotes start their songs. Unlike New York City, the appearance of a coyote in this scene doesn't warrant helicopters, news conferences and terrorist teams on the hunt.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Yea but just wait until homeland security hears about that "mercury pool"

srp said...

Looks like the farmland in southern Illinois.

Anonymous said...

This is what I love about Illinois. The farmland. The big, wide, open spaces. The tranquility. There is a settledness to it that is physically calming to me. I read in Newsweek (I think) about how people are moving further and further out into the country to "get away from it all" -- easy to see the appeal. So sorry to see the sprawl.

Tim Rice said...

Ah, you are making me hungry for the wide open spaces. Not too much of that around my daily environs.

Anonymous said...

Unfortunately, the land to the west (on the right side of the photo) at the far end will wind up in the village of Elburn. In the foreground, the pool and field is adjacent to a proposed 500-1000 acre retirement community development. The land on the left side is part of at least 300-400 acres that if the owner was willing to sell a conservation easement on it and keep it as a farm, the township would seriously consider buying it. Growing up here watching the changes takes a strong stomach.

Suzanne said...

Yes it does take a strong stomach. Not only for those born and raised in the area, but for those of us raised in the city and moved to the country as soon as we were able to make our own decisions.

Regards,
Suzanne, The Farmers Wife