Good morning.
I took a drive Sunday- wanting to test my trusty truck and camera to lament with me on an Illinois Fall day. It was as intense a drive as the colors were. Intending to drive the Illinois River back roads- I instead drove within a frame work of roads I hadn't taken before that still
might connect me eventually, to the loose navigation I had used on past road trips.
In comparison, the Mississippi is a mighty river alright- many times I have crossed over her on meandering canoe trips and catfishing. The Illinois river is equally mighty, perhaps though- not so much in terms of length and width. Her might is more intimate- her byroads and crossings not so triumphant but equally memorable. All the little towns along the banks or way- like Havanna, Petersburg, Salisbury have doors that might remain mostly unlocked. The art on the walls of the homes that are scattered in those villages might be more folksy, reminiscent of homegrown and homemade. If the Illinois River were a lover, perhaps she'd be a bit more shy and shallow to the bigger river ways of romance.

A small grove of trees seemingly ablaze in gold- along the backside of the Sangamon River, East of Salisbury.

Stubby- guide dog extraordinaire. The Sangamon calling to him...some deep doggy tune apparently.

The Trading Post-Oakford Illinois. If ya haven't been...ya got ta go. I take all my out of state visitors here...once. And then it's completely up to them if we go again. We always do.
Motto:
Only in Oakford.

Old Coke sign on The Trading Post.

Another common sight in good Ol' Illinois. Silo, Oakford.
Setting sun outside of Greenview Illinois. Good old truck.
Combine behind me, finishing up the day's work.
Day is done.