The lake was enveloped in fog early this morning, whick gave me a chance to get some beautiful photos as the mist lifted:

I was up early to meet Russ at Abraham Lincoln’s Birthplace. Bit of a disappointment, actually. No trace of his actual first home remains. His family was evicted from this, and their next home, by land ownership disputes, and they moved to Illinois by the time Abe was 7. But for the centennial of his birth, in 1909, a monument was created to honor his birthplace, and inside this classical temple they placed a near-period cabin of the sort that Lincoln’s father MIGHT have built (historical purists be damned!). Inside the temple, the light is so dim that you can’t see the interior of the cabin, which is unfurnished anyway. It’s not his birthplace so much as a holy shrine to the IDEA of his birthplace, which is pretty much the way they did things in 1910.

The best part of the whole place was actually the ”sinking spring” that gave the farm its name. But you will have to see Russ’s blog for a picture of that.

One thing I am learning on the road is to stay open for what each day has to offer. There are no hiking trails in the area around Rough River Lake, which I thought would leave me little to do. In fact, I’ve been so busy watching wildlife (especially birds) since I got here that I haven’t had time to think about hiking. Whether watching the biggest painted turtle I’ve ever seen sunbathe on a log, while several attentive (and much smaller) males jostled for position beside her, or gasping as two rough-winged swallows, tiny talons locked in mortal combat, thrashed about in the water before finally separating and flying off, I’ve been treated to a never-ending Nature series. I only wish I had the means to capture on film the swallows, warblers, woodpeckers, finches, kingbirds, ducks and more that have flitted, flapped, darted and swooped past my lakeside campsite.

What can be captured are the many wildflowers, like this Prairie Trillium:

As I was writing this, I watched a bald eagle land across the cove, then try to eat his fish in peace while a murder of crows did their best to pester the bejeezus out of him.

Like I said, stay open for what each day has to offer!