I biked south of Route 31, past Island Park, and staying on the Fox River Bicycle Trail, I came out of a shady hollow to this giant windmill on the knoll to my left. It towers over the surroundings. It did not have the sailcloth on it during the past week, and was not turning in the wind. It's graceful in it's lines and antique in it's character. I stared up at it from the bike trail for a long time before riding on.
I looked up at Colonel Fabyan's authentic Netherland's windmill. And the windmill looked back down at me.