Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve, Again

On Monday, which was like a Sunday in terms of work schedules, we took a walk at the Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve in Palatine, a not-too-far-away suburb.

We’ve been here before, I told Yuriko.

We have?

I couldn’t remember exactly when (till I looked it up), but I knew that we had — and we’d seen guys playing Frisbee golf there. Besides a walking trail, the preserve includes a disc golf course. It still does.Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve

Something I noticed this time that I never did before: the players were all carrying bags with more than one disc inside. Maybe a half dozen discs. Like a golfer has different clubs, a — disc-er? — has different discs for different shots? Must be.

We didn’t go to toss discs, but just to walk.Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve

And read a bit.Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve

Gold is a prime color of late summer.Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve Palatine Prairie Nature Preserve

This little memorial, under a tree, looked fairly new.Tony Esposito memorial Palatine

This Tony Esposito? Probably so, considering his long tenure with the Chicago Blackhawks.

Salt Creek Greenway, Wood Dale

What’s our idea of a good way to spend a few hours on a long weekend at home? A long walk between a small creek and a large electric substation.

After a fairly inert Saturday, on Sunday we walked a section of the Salt Creek Greenway, which runs 25 miles or so from Busse Woods in Elk Grove Village to the Brookfield Zoo. The part we walked was in Wood Dale, Illinois.

We started at an empty parking lot. Signs call it a bike trail, but the entire time we were there — on a pleasant, cloudy weekend afternoon — we saw exactly one bicyclist, along with a handful of walkers, including one other family with a dog.Salt Creek Greenway 2022

The trail is decidedly obscure, at least to judge by its emptiness on Sunday, and we liked it that way. No dodging bicycles, for one thing. We walked a total of two miles or so, one there and one back, since the trail doesn’t loop.

Early September is still a lush season along the trail.Salt Creek Greenway 2022 Salt Creek Greenway 2022 Salt Creek Greenway 2022

Salt Creek. The trail crosses it at one point, but mostly runs at some distance from the creek along this section.Salt Creek Greenway 2022 Salt Creek Greenway 2022

Maybe people are put off by the ComEd substation on one side of the trail. It’s impressively large. I get a kick out of getting a good look at important infrastructure, but that’s just me.Salt Creek Greenway 2022 Salt Creek Greenway 2022 Salt Creek Greenway 2022

Part of Illinois 390 is also visible from a short section of the trail.Illinois 360 sign Wood Dale

Note the birds. For a moment, especially when they took flight, you could imagine you were in a Hitchcock movie.

Dimming Summer Light

Goldenrod has started to turn golden out toward the back yard fence. I noticed that as the sun was going down for the last time in August 2022. It’s been an eventful month.

The dog was patrolling the yard at that moment.

Her patrols know no season, but various creatures to spy — including dogs beyond the fence — are more likely in the warmer months

Temporary Saw Horse Installation

A thunderstorm rolled through yesterday around 6 pm, and today again around noon. Each was followed by slightly cooler air and clear skies. Summer’s in decline, but not gone. Ragweed has started pumping out its pollen.

The repaving of our street is done, leaving behind asphalt smooth as Tennessee whiskey, but dark as a claims adjuster’s heart. Will genetically modified moss or some such — smooth and hard, but green and alive — one day in some future decade be the surface of choice for transportation infrastructure?

Meanwhile, the paving contractor recently gathered all of the lighted saw horses from the street, and lined them up for removal. It was a few days (and nights) before they got around to picking them up.

Nice effect after dark. We’ve walked the dog that way a few times, and while it might impress us a little, the dog doesn’t seem interested in such items. Can’t eat it, or smell it, or exchange growls or whines with it, so who cares?

Around Lake Michigan ’22

A little more than a week ago, I took a pretty good picture of three dear friends, two of whom I’ve known for over 45 years. From left to right, Tom, Catherine and Jae.

We were on the second day of our drive around Lake Michigan, counterclockwise, which took us from metro Chicago through northern Indiana, Grand Rapids and parts of western Michigan, Petoskey and environs, Mackinac Island, both Sault Ste. Maries, parts of the eastern Upper Peninsula, greater Green Bay and other parts of eastern Wisconsin, and back to metro Chicago.

Leaving on July 30 from our starting point at my house, we drove my car on crowded and less crowded Interstates, state and county highways, and a host of smaller roads, including National Forest roads cutting through lush boreal territory. Returning yesterday to my house, my friends flew back to Austin today; they had arrived from Austin two days ahead of the trip.

We’d planned the trip via email and Zoom, beginning back in early spring. I was the informal guide, making suggestions and offering bits of information I knew from previous visits to Michigan, upper and lower. But my friends were hardly passive in the course of our travels, digging up information via cell and making their own suggestions based on their own familiarity with some of the territory. Catherine had overseen arranging our accommodations, and everybody drove at one time or another.

We stayed in five different peer-to-peer rental accommodations along way, all entire houses that could provide us enough bedrooms, bathrooms, food prep and dining areas, and, in most cases, space to sit outdoors, once with a view of the waters of Green Bay.

Enjoying the outdoors was one of the main goals of the trip. For me, certainly, but especially for them, escaping the high heat of central Texas. They often remarked on the cool air and reveled in it, checking periodically to learn the temps at home. Three digits in Austin wasn’t usual. I don’t think got higher than 85 F. where we were. Standard night temps in both Michigans generally came in the 60s F.

Two meals a day was the norm: a mid- to late-morning breakfast and a late afternoon dinner, or a very late breakfast and a late dinner, at least as these things are reckoned in North America. So on many days, our meal schedule was more like that of Mexico City.

Food variety has trickled down to the lakeside and inland burgs of the upper Upper Midwest, though perhaps not quite as much as in large metros. Whitefish, the star of a lot of UP menus, had top billing in some of our meals, but we also enjoyed hamburgers and other meat — including one tasty UP pasty — pizza, pasta, breakfast fare, bar food, Italian and Asian, plus chocolates and fruit, such as Michigan cherries and UP jam. We prepared our own meals sometimes, did takeout a few times.

Coffee by morning, wine by night, though I only participated in the latter. Familiar wines were available in every grocery store we visited, and my friends sought out coffee ground as locally as possible: one bag from Sault Ste. Marie, for instance.

Meals and wine drinking were a source of convivial times, but hardly the only one. We talked and conversed and bantered at the table, as we headed along roads and as we walked trails. Shared personal histories were revisited, stories of our long periods apart were relayed, and opinions shared. Odd facts were floated. There was punnery, especially on the part of Tom, a born punster.

We visited one city of any size, Grand Rapids, and many smaller places, a few museums, a sculpture garden, some riverfronts, shopping streets and resort areas, a grand hotel, an historic fort, churches, a Hindu temple, a wooded cemetery, two lighthouses, forests, clearings and beaches, a massive sand dune, waterfalls, rapids and the clearest pond I’ve ever seen. The three Great Lakes we saw stretched to empty horizons — except when Canada or the opposite shore of Green Bay were visible. We crossed the Mackinac Bridge once and the international bridge between the Sault Ste Maries twice.

We walked near the shores of Lakes Superior, Huron and Michigan. The northern woods and the beach ecosystems were fully flush here in late summer. Jae, who knows a good deal about flora, shared some knowledge about the flowers, trees and fungi we saw in profusion.

Though we caught a few showers in daytime, and the last day was mostly rainy, most of the storms rumbled through at night, adding to the restfulness of whatever sleep we each had. None of the storms were lightning-and-thunder dramas, but some were impressive in their downpour. My friends expressed their satisfaction with the cool light winds that often blow in corners of the UP.

There were a number of travel firsts, mostly for my friends. This was the first time any of them had been to the UP, and the first time they had seen Lake Superior, whose aspect I’m so fond of, and their first visit to the northern part of the Lower Peninsula. The trip included Tom’s first known visit to a national park, though later we determined that it was probably his second park. Also, it was the first time two of them had ever been to Canada, since we popped across the border for one night in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario.

For me, a mix of new and places I saw long enough ago that they were almost like new.

When I dropped off my friends at O’Hare earlier today, we agreed that they trip had met expectations. And more.

Apron Replacement

Not long ago, the village sent me a note — a low-tech, paper note, stuck in the door — that soon my “apron” would be replaced. It took me a moment to figure out that meant the section of my driveway that’s between the street and the sidewalk. Turns out the village meant not only that, but the sidewalk next to it as well.

Technically, the apron isn’t part of my driveway, since the it’s beyond my lot line. But I use it all the time as if I owned it because it leads to my driveway. The advantage to it belonging to the village is, of course, no fee for the replacement above the taxes I already pay.

We had time to move the cars to the street where, we were assured, they wouldn’t be ticketed for overnight parking. And they haven’t been. Soon workmen and big machines came along.Apron replacement

Wooden boards were erected to contain the concrete in its liquid-ish moments.Apron replacement

Pouring concrete.

I don’t have an image of the finished apron and sidewalk, but it’s a bright white hard surface. I didn’t sign my name or initials on it, or let the dog paw it. Also, there’s no imprint by the contractor, or a date, as you see elsewhere sometimes — and for a long time.

Such as the sidewalk in Milwaukee’s Walker’s Point neighborhood earlier this month.Sidewalk, Walker's Point

Not the contractor, but the city’s imprint. It was an old slab of concrete, but it’s held up fairly well for more than 80 years in the chilly Wisconsin climate. Will my new apron hold up so long? Till the turn of the 22nd century?

Retail Churn

In my photo file marked July 2012, I found an image from the last days of Ultra Foods here in the northwest suburbs. It was a store I knew fairly well. It was a genuine discounter, and sometimes had oddities like Black Jack and Clove gum or frosted flakes from Latin America.Ultra Foods 2012

About to close. A Tony’s supermarket replaced it a little while after and has been in business in that location since. I don’t have any after pictures to go with this before image. All of the Ultra Foods in the Chicago area, its entire market, seem to be gone, closing in the years after this one.

Up the road a piece — the same large suburban artery — was the site of another closed grocery store, though I forget which. Dominick’s, maybe. Soon Mariano’s would be there.

Marino’s has been in business since then. I don’t have any after images for this before picture. I go there more often than Tony’s. Got some fine pies, Mariano’s does.

Amble in Lords Park, Elgin

Rain fell overnight on Friday and into the wee hours of Saturday, which re-greened the grass some. It’s been dry enough so that I haven’t mowed in a few weeks, but now it looks like my bourgeois householder impulses (as spotty as they can be) are going to kick in, and I’ll be out there some late afternoon soon, adjusting the height of the grass.

But not yet. After the rain, Saturday was warm and a little steamy, but that didn’t keep us from popping out to Elgin for a lunch from Gabuttø Burger, and then a visit to Lords Park in that same suburb. It’s been a few years since our last visit to the place, whose contour rolls slightly and that the city keeps manicured.Lords Park, Elgin

The 108 acres of the park are lush green in July, after recent rains and a rainy spring.Lords Park, Elgin

One of the park’s distinctions is a small zoo, which has existed in one form or another as long as the park — over 100 years. Once upon a time, that included a bear pit, but that kind of animal display has mostly disappeared. The zoo doesn’t have bears at all these days. Except for some large examples, it’s mostly farm animals these days.

No dogs allowed in the zoo — we brought ours on this particular trip — so we didn’t go in. Still, you can see a number of the animals by walking around the perimeter, including some buffalo and elk, besides a few farm animals.

We took a stroll around the park’s large pond.Lords Park, Elgin
Lords Park, Elgin Lords Park, Elgin

At one of the benches under some shade, we saw a family dressed in Sunday clothes, with perhaps another relative or a family friend taking portraits. A young man and woman, with what looked like twin girls, maybe three or four years old. For some of the pictures, the visibly pregnant woman held a set of sonograms in front of her.

At least two quinceañeras and a wedding seemed to be under way. That is, we saw more than one cluster of people dressed for those kinds of occasions, out and about with photographers.Lords Park, Elgin

The actual celebrations were probably in the Pavilion, a handsome structure erected in 1898 to replace a structure that had burned down after only a few months in existence. The earlier building had gone up shortly after local landowners (George and Mary Lord) gave the land for the park to the city.Lords Park, Elgin

We didn’t go inside — events were going on, after all, and we had a dog. The City of Elgin notes in its web site: “The elegant Pavilion features a Victorian banquet facility with hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, picket doors, large windows with scenic park views, a covered wrap-around porch, and outdoor ceremony grounds with ponds, fountains and wooden bridge.”

Well, we did see the “ceremony grounds,” as pictured above. I don’t know that I’d call Lords Park a hidden treasure, exactly, but it is obscure (unless you live nearby) and a good spot to amble.

Listening to the Fourth of July

Back to work. Got an email today, a steamy hot July day, that started: “Are you working on any National Ice Cream Day (July 17) stories? If so, please consider…” Not my beat, unfortunately.

We didn’t troop out to any public space to see a professional fireworks on July 4 this year. Rather, we listened to the numerous private explosions — at least I did — from the comfort of the backyard deck. Temps were just right, the wind had died down, and the small amount of rain we’d had a few hours before dark had most dried up.

Such pyrotechnics are banned under Illinois law. Or at least all the fun stuff is outlawed. It’s a law that goes unenforced after dark on Independence Day, or much before dark that day, unless (I suppose), you decided (for example) to shoot off bottle rockets in front of a cop. Or at a cop. Assuming you survived such an act, that would probably earn a fine at least.

I’ve heard private July 4 fireworks every year that I’ve lived in Illinois and been here for the holiday, but my impression is that the unsanctioned explosions ramped up in quantity and quality beginning in 2020. That year, we arrived home from Prairie du Chien on the Fourth, and soon watched from the front yard as the block lit up with more fireworks than ever before. I don’t know about last year — we went to Westmont for the show — but the trend seems to have carried on this year.

Then again, location probably matters. Fifteen years ago (was it that long ago?), we were treated to a lot of fine explosions in one of the rural parts of Grundy County, Illinois. This year, I didn’t bother with Grundy or even my front yard. I parked myself on my deck and decided to listen.

Peak illegal fireworks, between about 9 p.m. and 10 p.m., was a richly layered aural experience: rumbling every few seconds off in the far distance, pops and whizzing in the mid-distance almost as often, and BANGS nearby pretty often, all mixed together in a mildly noisy stew, except for those close-by BANGS, which weren’t mild at all. The distant rumbles sounded almost the same as distant thunder, but not quite, if you listened closely. Sometimes you could see fireworks out in the mid-distance, pops of gold and green and blue and red, but this year sound was the thing.

At roughly the same time as ambient explosions peaked, the legal fireworks display at the ballpark about a mile away was, as usual, just visible over a line of trees. I also think I barely heard, and barely saw, the legal fireworks display in Elgin as well, some miles distant to the west. At about 9:30, I heard a massive number of small explosions, as you usually do for the finale of such a show — but faintly — in roughly the right direction as Elgin. I could also see a pale but expanding glow simultaneously with the noise.

By about 10, most of the noise was gone, though of course there were scattered booms and pops until nearly midnight, when nature decided to make some noise of its own. A large thunderstorm barreled through the area, dropping a few inches of rain and conclusively putting an end to this year’s Independence Day explosions.

Antiques of Naperville

Back on July 5, since of course the stretch from Canada Day to Independence Day at the very least ought to be a row of holidays.

At a shop called Antiques of Naperville, which is tucked away on a side street in that suburb’s downtown, there is a sign that says:

Take All The Photos You Want
Please
Tag Us @Antiques of Naperville
#shopdoggibson #brownbarnantiques

Sure thing. This doesn’t count as a tag, but it is a mention. I took the place up on its offer of no-limits photography, because there was so much stuff around. Interesting stuff. That’s all I ask of an antique store. Not every shop allows pictures, but is that not a mistake in this age of social media?

This was the place I found the Charley Weaver bartender doll, previously posted. Nearby him were these ties — and somehow they’re in the same bric-a-brac milieu as ol’ Charley.Antiques of Naperville

Divers reading material.Antiques of Naperville Antiques of Naperville

Dell. We always had many more Gold Key comics than Dell, but there were a few around the house.

Paperbacks. Not that old. We had this book when I was young and I read it. And the next one.Antiques of Naperville

Something we didn’t have: Shiva.Antiques of Naperville

Shiva is the Destroyer, and it occurs to me that destruction doesn’t have to be dramatic and fast, does it? Sometimes — often? — usually? — destruction is gradual, happening off in a quiet corner or nook, but inexorable all the same. Such as for the objects in an antique shop, for instance.

Characters more friendly than Shiva.Antiques of Naperville
Antiques of Naperville

I have to say it: Very interesting, but stoopid. You bet your sweet bippy.

“As seen on Antiques Roadshow.” This very thing, or just one like it?
Antiques of Naperville

A traveling game of chance, its sign said, used by con men. No doubt.

Items no longer needed by drivers, fortunately.Antiques of Naperville

Yuriko pointed out the inhabitant of a chair in the shop.You bet your sweet bippy

For a moment I thought it was a doll or cushion of some kind, but then one of the dog’s paws twitched. It was a living dog. Probably the most inert dog I’ve ever seen, and a lot of dogs are inert a lot of the time. This dog paid no attention to any of the people shuffling through the shop, and barely acknowledged it when Yuriko petted him.