Category Archives: Geneva, Ill.

Voice from the past

I’ve been looking through old copies of our church’s newsletter, The Pioneer, dating back into the 1950’s. In June, 1962, Rev. Charles Lyttle, then minister here in Geneva, printed part of an old letter from Rev. R. L. Herbert, who had been minister in Geneva from 1874 to 1880. Rev. Herbert went off to serve in the Denver, Colorado Unitarian church, and in 1881 he wrote this to his former church in Geneva:

“And to all of you in that dear congregation I write again to say: Do your best to banish superstition. Be brave for truth at any cost. Do not bow to any fashionable lie; and chiefly, in thought and life, teach the nobility and excellency of good character. Prove by these fruits that you believe in the best doctrines. Then, every day, winter and summer, you will make to be Flower Sunday and this earthly life heavenly!”

[If you’re a UU history nut like me, it’s clear that Rev. Herbert was moving into humanist beliefs even at this early date. Herbert was the one who got our congregation to substitute the phrase “practical goodness” in our covenant, in place of the original “practical Godliness.”]

Meditation for early March

A warm afternoon. The people out walking on Third Street wear shirt sleeves, no coats. The warm weather fooled some of the grass into greening up a little. We’re not fooled. More cold air masses pushing down out of Canada and everything will freeze again. At least one more snow storm sweeping in from the west dropping heavy wet snow. Deep snow in places, where you have to wade through drifts to uncover the car. Mercifully the car starts this time but there’s this new spot of rust just below the door looking ugly and lots more hidden under fading paint of that I have no doubt. No doubt spring will be fully here some day soon. In the meantime the car warms up enough to begin another winter journey home. This is what we know will come. More cold. More snow. Spring, eventually. But at the moment it’s a warm afternoon in early March with no reason to think any farther ahead than now.

Spring watch

Over the past two or three months, I’ve been hearing a Great Horned Owl calling when I’ve been in my office at night. Three weeks ago, I finally saw him, sitting up on the roof of the old Kane County court house building a block away from the church. No wonder he sounded so loud from my office.

I hadn’t heard him for a while, but I thought I heard him hooting last night, from somewhere further south in Geneva. He always gives four hoots at a time — hoo hoo-hoo hoo — which is how I know he’s male. I have not heard any females giving their call, of five to six hoots, at all this winter. It’s getting late for owls to try to find a mate, and I’m beginning to wonder if the male has given up on downtown Geneva and is moving further afield.

Spring watch

Red maples are often one of the earliest trees to put out blossoms in this climate and ecosystem. I’ve been watching a little red maple on Second Street, down a few blocks from the church. While its buds are quite red, they aren’t showing any signs of busrting forth.

On my afternoon walk today, I happened to look up at a tree on Fifth Street near State — it was a red maple I’d never noticed before, and up near the top of the tree it looked like a few blossoms had opened up.

That’s good news and bad news. Those blossoms mean spring is getting nearer. They also indicate the beginning of pollen season for hay fever sufferers.

Spring watch

Transcendentalist that I am, I’m always watching for signs of the turning seasons. Yesterday I was walking along the Fox River here in Geneva, near the wastewater treatment plant, when I heard a dozen or more male Red-winged Blackbirds giving their familiar “konk-a-reee” song. While these are undoubtedly birds that have wintered here, that was the first time this year I have heard them singing. It’s too early for the males to be setting up breeding territories, but their songs said that spring is not all that far off now.

Today I watched as a wintering Eastern Bluebird foraged along the river behind the Kane County office building. He was hawking low to the ground, flying out from a series of low perches, but I couldn’t tell if he was feeding on insects or some other invertebrates. He also spent some time feeding on Staghorn Sumac berries left over from last summer. He made a pretty picture, the rusty red of the berries matching his breast, and contrasting with his bright blue back and wings in the late afternoon sun.