On my long, windy walk to breakfast today in downtown Chicago, the results of yesterday’s rain showed themselves along the Riverwalk. The Chicago River was up 2-3 feet over flood stage, and access to the Riverwalk was closed.
We’re going to see more of this, I suspect. One wonders if Chicago is ready.
Reading on my balcony in Deerfield, every few minutes my eyes are drawn skyward to the sound of a jet, or of a southbound flock of Canadian Geese.
Autumn has sneaked into the Midwest. Hopefully it will grace my home shores of the Strawberry Coast soonish.
I don’t find many here in Illinois who share the sentiment, and I acknowledge that my joy at the coming of Fall is colored by the mild and pleasant winters of the California Coast rather than the lake effect blizzards that punctuate the season hereabouts.
For me, the sharpening chill of October evenings makes me think of sweaters, thick socks, and a good book with a cup of something hot. It means fast boat rides on windy chop, migrating whales, and the constant tang of the Pacific in the air. It means comfortable camping in tent and RV, a banket across my legs before the campfire is kindled.
It is meals in a Sukkah, a giddy dance with the Torah, the ranks of children knocking on our door on Halloween, Thanksgiving dinner, Chanukah lights, carols, movies, and school breaks with my son. It is the World Series, my son’s basketball schedule, and bowl games.
Fall is first and foremost an affirmation of life in the maw of the oncoming chill. And for that it will ever be my favorite season.
Fly on, old friends, I think as another flock honks southward. May you find peaceful flyaways far from the engines of airplanes.
Dusk descends in pink on the lights of this big-shouldered town.
Apologies to Carl Sandburg. Nonetheless, I feel his inspiration.
The Corner Bakery across from the Tribune Tower is comfortable, nicely decorated, offers refills, and has plugs.
And it’s on The Magnificent Mile.
Meet my first writer’s nook in Chicago.
In my entire life before September 1 I had been to Chicago all of once.
The morning after Yom Kippur I will make my second trip in 20 days. Fascinating.
This time, I will have a Chicago Dog, see the symphony, and do some writing. And go to Stan’s donuts and Wildberry, though admittedly not on the same day.