With my back to the sunset, I saw this.

Funny thing is, I didn't take a picture of the sunset. Maybe I was in the wrong spot and didn't have much of a view of the sunset or it didn't appeal to me for some reason. Never-the-less, I have no images of the sun that evening. And I recall that this was a wet vantage point, and that I had worn tall boots to get to this spot. Can you hear the red-winged blackbird singing?

This is Nipper Sink Sanctuary, south west of Springfield, Illinois.

Dangerous. Destructive. Blazing. Consuming.

Or just the first step to S'Mores and sweetness and fun evenings and laughter and sticky fingers and memories.

We have breakfast in the garden.

Truth, to tell, we have lunch and dinner in the garden as well. When the weather permits, I drink my morning coffee very near this spot. I take a medication first thing in the morning and have to wait 30 minutes before eating breakfast. I've been amazed at the benefit of relaxing with my cup and thinking and meditating and praying and giving thanks and "breathing deeply" and watching the morning awaken in my backyard. I suppose if I was still working there would be a different routine , but I appreciate this opportunity of having a morning drink and noticing other creatures giving thanks for refreshment.

Winged Victory stands tall atop the pedestal of the Elijah P. Lovejoy monument in Alton, Illinois.

Lovejoy, killed on the eve of his 35th birthday in 1837 by a pro-slavery mob, was a Presbyterian minister, a newspaper editor, and a fervent abolitionist. Inscribed on one side of his monument is his testimony: "I have sworn eternal opposition to slavery and by the blessing of God I will never turn back."

As I have reflected on this photo, taken several years ago, and Lovejoy's passion for truth and justice and freedom, I cannot escape the notion that most, if not all evil, erupts from the objectification of other human beings. Without seeing another person as real, there can be no trust nor respect. The results are myriad wars of all sizes, and greed, and jealousy, and intolerance, and hatred of anyone who is different.

Lovejoy used his words from the pulpit and through the printing press to expose the abhorrence of an economic system based on owning other human beings, as if God's children can be just another possession. He paid for his words with his life. Slavery eventually ended, but the evil mistreatment of other people has not been conquered...yet. But with each expression of justice, Victory is poised to announce another step toward true humanity and community.

It was a spontaneous decision to ride the ferry with friends across the Illinois River and eat lunch in Brussels at the Wittmond Hotel. But the serendipitous moment was the antique Trailways Bus parked next to the Hotel that provided a "back to the past" photo opportunity.

I even had my "old" digital camera to record the scene. So what happens if one begins to "play" with the software to express the feeling of "turning back time"?

Ah, it looks like a postcard or an advertisement for "Leave the Driving to Us!"

And there are other visual possibilities as well...with a picture straight out of an ancient family photo album:

The hotel was built in 1885 and supposedly there are 15 guest rooms upstairs. But the primary attraction today is the family style meal served in a room filled with tables and conversation and laughter and antique lamps and dated wallpaper. The Hotel doesn't take credit cars (there's an ATM across the street at the small bank) because it's "cash only" which gave an opportunity for the patron at the neighboring table to claim he didn't know how to operate an ATM. I thought later that he was either a salesman or a politician, maybe both, taking us all for a ride. I was fairly certain he wasn't the bus driver.

It was the first time for me.

I've made a lot of visits to cemeteries, mostly professional in nature. Usually, it has been a somber occasion. Following the funeral at the church or a funeral home, there had been a procession to the burial site. I had a few words to say, several scriptural verses, a prayer, the commital service, and usually ending with The Lord's Prayer in unison. Sometimes I would invite the family and friends to offer their remembrances. And then frequently, people would hesitate to leave. They would talk in groups and hug and visit nearby stones that marked the grave of other loved ones.

I heard a novel reason to visit the local cemetery as Mrs. McKemie told us when my daughter was learning to drive that she taught her kids to drive in the Benton City cemetery. There were paved roads with no traffic and the people residing there wouldn't object.

But last week was the first time I ate pizza in any cemetery. My sister-in-law had told Judy of the unique stones in a rural cemetery and that we ought to go see them. We picked up a Domino's pizza and Diet Cokes and drove into the country. They were several carved stones, more than 125 years old, that depicted stories of the departed. This one is for a teen-aged boy with a baseball bat, cap, books, and his favorite chair sculpted in stone. I suspect that this was an expensive stone at the time, but wouldn't it be fun if this was a typical marker? It would be an art gallery in the outdoors, a place for pizza, and learning to drive, and I'm told for "parking".

This is a parade like no other.

If you have driven across Illinois on US 24, you may have seen this parade on the south side of the road, in the middle of a field. I don't recall how many discarded horses are lined up there. I suspect the parade continues to grow in length. Kids have outgrown their rocking horse and the plastic steeds have escaped to a field in Illinois, joining in the parade. I think this is a better destination than the dump or stored in a windowless garage or the corner of a dark basement. Horses are supposed to be free, roaming the wide open spaces. Gallop away!