I remember a visit to a county fair.  It happened when I was fourteen or fifteen.  The occasion was memorable because I was not accompanied by my parents.  I recall the glitter of the midway lights in the dark night, the aroma of cotton candy, and candied apples.  Also the smell of sawdust, and the tawdry-excitement of the burlesque shows…  It is well that some things are no longer allowed for County Fairs.

With few exceptions I attend the midsummer Lake County Fair. The fair still holds a magical fascination for the “kid in me.” A county fair is an agricultural themed event.   Time passes and agriculture, traditionally understood as the small family farm, is pushed farther away by suburban development, –the fewer the 4H exhibits, and fewer farm animals are brought for proud display and judging.  The fair is a beauty pageant for goats, cows, pigs, chickens, rabbets, the domestic animals that make all of our lives more civilized.  It’s also an extended opportunity  for farm families to associate pleasantly, to enjoy conviviality for a few days as they care for their animals.

I offer this mini-photo show of what interested me at the Lake County Fair yesterday.  Without a doubt the not-good-for-you fair food is a feature attraction.  I passed on the fried elephant ears and chose a chocolate soft serve cone for my treat.  The ice cream was satisfying, delicious as I sat and concentrated on finishing it.  It was a race with the afternoon sun that threatened to consume the cone first.  Some things do not change.

My visit to the commercial display barn was as expected, an encounter with the human menagerie.  I always find the booths leased by small businesses, and by social service organizations interesting.  The variety and the idiosyncratic expression of individual human beings sometimes delights and sometimes dismays my imagination.  I always pass close to the larger booths occupied by the campaign workers for the Republican and the Democratic Parties.  There is an informal political dimension to every exchange which we have with another human being.  By contrast formal politics is the practice of begging for support so that your party and your candidates can have “the say,” the power over the whole community for a full term, usually four years.  Such begging brings out the best and the worst in us.

I happened by the Republican booth, which I regard as the Trump-Predator-Party.  Around the corner was the booth manned by the Dems.  Gubernatorial candidate J.B. Pritzker was holding forth surrounded by a crowd five deep.  As I took my photo I thought that Pritzger looked quite earnest with the practice of a man who understands that earnestness is what is called for in such a situation.

A highlight of my walk-about was a conversation with these two gentlemen from Mundelein.  We talked about what the village must have been like when the first fire truck was in service in 1925.  The population would have been around 700. The area was rural, with almost no paved roads.  You can see the buggy works heritage in the shape of the driver’s seat of the Old Number One fire engine.

The majority of my photographs are of farm animals.  The goats always fascinate me.  They are quite tame, and invite a gentle scratch behind the ears.  The varieties of roosters are a sight to behold with exotic types that you’d not imagine.  The chicken is a bird to be celebrated that gives us so much.  I cannot imagine life without eggs.  The gimlet eye of this regal cock tells it’s story: this bird rules the roost.

As I write this I think the goat or a rooster “say” all that can be said on the matter of what ought to be done about our public life. The goat, peering at me with tilted head and wistful expression– has my vote !

An  unanticipated bonus from my visit to the fair came while I was exiting the fairgrounds in my vehicle.  Glancing to my left through the side window I noticed that an adjacent wetland was populated by many white cranes.  Making a snap decision I pulled the car off the road and onto the grass shoulder.  Camera in hand, I approached the wetland carefully, screened by tall grasses and weeds growing at waters edge.  As good fortune would have it, I came away with some photos of these magnificent creatures.

I know the distinction is artificial, abstract, –humans and all of our works are also “of Nature.”  However the view of the white cranes feeding in the wetland transcended anything that I saw at the Fair.  Nature merits protection, respect, and even reverence.