The Illinois and Michigan Canal

Mile after unspoiled mile: trails once plied by

mules and tow men parallel the watery

ditches  where canal boats once labored.

The tow path of the long defunct I and M canal

Winds into the distance:

Hand dug from Illinois to Michigan this short lived

means of transporting goods beckons the walker, jogger

and bicycle rider.

Remnants of locks silently stand sentinel.

Towns such as Utica, and Ottawa, Marseilles cling to the towpath berms

Battling time and technology to remain in existence.

 

There is an abundance of  expected sights along  miles of trails in the midst of

flyover country: ducks, deer, water happy reeds and prairie grasses.

Fallen trees, limbs strewn across parts of the walk way.

No surprises here.

 

So what is not here?

What is missing?

Why walk mile after mile huffing and puffing between arches of trees,

sensing the heroics of tug boat pullers and their companion mules.

In the midst of nowhere on a beautiful November day?

 

 News anchors are today describing  the end of the Occupation of Wall Street:

Pictures of sanitation trucks (garbage trucks where I come from): front end

loaders ferrying piles of trash and human waste from pristine city park lands.

Squatters with hands out, voices raised, not a clue about social responsibility.

 

What is missing on the I & M trails?

Didn’t see 1 not 1 trash can: Didn’t see 1 not 1 graffiti painted wall:

Saw only 1, just 1 walker who put a Wendy’s cup by the walk side:

Blaring boom boxes – zero:  Pounding drums – zero.

Government lackeys leaning on their shovels and occasionally picking up

trash – zero.

 

Over one hundred years of sleepy existence.  The trails are nurtured and cared

for by those anonymous friends who  make a difference. A dramatic  example

of people taking personal responsibility for their land and legacy. 

 

Perhaps a coincidence – perhaps not:  Driving north from Ottawa to Harvard

 Il, a land flat and fertile: prized farmland generation to generation: one is

 struck by the numbers  of Old Glories lying proudly from flag poles and posts

of all sorts. 

Perhaps a coincidence – perhaps not.

 

The sentinal remains of the canal