Plague Journal, Life’s More Fun
Tuesday. The weather grows a few degrees warmer by the day. What if I ride the bicycle north, on the path alongside the river toward Geneva? The drive to Geneva takes about 10 minutes, so that will be an easy bike ride. I’ve used the Schwinn bike more since the imposed seclusion to the house, than in the years since the bicycle was given to me by my daughter and her partner. Some gifts grow more valuable with time.
The pathway alongside the Fox River affords a view of the river, wooded areas, and the small towns along the river. There is plenty to see. Wildlife and vegetation are active at this early spring time. I passed a number of walkers, and some bike riders. We all together are in need of exercise, and the inspiration that a closeness to Nature provides.
I reached Geneva in about 30 minutes, and saw a sign pointing the way to the next town north, St. Charles. Feeling good enough, I set off for an additional two miles. I stopped along the way to capture several scenes with my camera.
How true our knowledge of a thing depends upon our angle of view. A river was a formidable obstacle to our ancestors. For a very long time there were fords, and then bridges were built with much heavy labor. I can hardly imagine the work needed to fell trees by hand, preparing the wood and then the foundation for a suitable bridge over even a small stream. I marveled 
at the concrete pylons of this bridge over the Fox River. While admiring the engineering, load bearing design, a freight train passed overhead. I placed my hand on one of the pylons expecting to feel at least a hint of vibration, but nothing. This is well built, built to last. It is a span with 
provision to add another set of tracks, as you can see by the photo. The camera’s eye captured through the unused set of concrete pylons, a sapling tree framed on the opposite side of the river.
In view of St. Charles the automobile traffic bridge over the river has a graceful elegance in shape, 
built with a low span to the river. And the dam at St. Charles, just upriver of the automobile traffic bridge, shows the power inherent in the volume of water flowing downstream toward the Mississippi.
On my return ride I thought of how eerie it feels to have all except businesses deemed essential shut down. Automobile traffic on the road is scarce, reminiscent of a Sunday morning. A friend observed how ironical that the liquor business should 
be deemed “essential.” No doubt a lot could be written about why that is the case.
I know that you as well as I receive all kinds of unsolicited sales pitches at your email address. I received this one yesterday. I wonder how many of these bottles of wine would I find drinkable?
