#sangamon river

[sangcounty]

Ellsworth, IL

Love in the Prairie State

[uniqueartisanconnoisseur]

A Walk Around the Rail

A Walk Around the Rail

You have three choices if you want to walk near the Rail Golf Course in Sherman, Illinois. First there is Carpenter Park, and then there is a public walking path around the course, then of course you can also play a round of golf and carry your clubs!

Walking part belonging to the Village of Sherman. The Rail Golf Course

While today this lovely golf course located near the Sangamon…

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[michael-massa-micon]

As we enter a new decade, I have decided to look back at my 100,000+ images and select out my favorites of favorites. For the Month of January, I will be posting one each day. I will return to new posts on February 1. Favorite Number 07 Old Mill at Lincoln’s New Salem near Springfield IL July 2010Originally Posted July 1, 2014 Kathy and I stayed at the campground at Lincoln’s New Salem in 2010 while attending a family reunion. We have stayed at the campground at Lincoln’s New Salem several times through the years. We actually toured the historic site in 1969 when we were on our honeymoon. New Salem existed for only a very short time because it was not really a good place for a mill race. The Sangamon River, then as now, does not have a good, consistent flow of water, but goes from trickle to flood and back several times each year. This restored mill actually works if the water level is right. The water wasn’t right for grinding flour, but it was great for taking an image. MWM

[serpentfactory]

[serpentfactory]

[trcarpenter]

I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river Is a strong brown god - sullen, untamed and intractable, Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier; Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce; Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges. The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten By the dwellers in cities - ever, however, implacable. Keeping his seasons, and rages, destroyer, reminder Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, unpropitiated By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting. His rhythm was present in the nursery bedroom, In the rank ailanthus of the April dooryard, In the smell of grapes on the autumn table, And the evening circle in the winter gaslight.

[serpentfactory]

[serpentfactory]