the Illinois countryside

Truthfully, visiting the far western exurbs of Chicago was never on my bucket list, but when some very pleasant circumstances resulted in an invitation to the farmland, I was delighted to go, for reasons that included the chance to see some stars, go for a bike ride along traffic-free roads, and wake up to nothing but the sound of birds singing.

Empty cornfields were dotted with clusters of woods. The backyard of a friend's childhood house would have been a dream for this apartment-dweller growing up--hundreds of square feet of trees to hide behind, a pond that freezes over in winter for ice skating, a forest floor brimming with trillium and Jack-in-the-pulpit in spring and summer.

A tree-lined path from the back of the house led to this idyllic little oasis, which even boasts a half-finished log cabin. It would be the ideal place for a party or a wedding--if it weren't for the killer mosquitoes. But luckily for our visit, the freakishly warm early spring weather was three steps ahead of any many-legged beings, other than spiders, whose presence was signaled only by the errant strings we broke through as we walked the trail.

A wonderfully relaxing and refreshing interlude made sweeter by the company.

Of course it's not all romance out there.