After lunch with a friend, I ducked in to Best Buy for a printer cartridge and took this photograph while waiting in line. More
Many thousand people clamber daily up and down el stairs like these; how many thousand, Celia couldn’t begin to say. The stairs’ steel treads are noisy and unforgiving, sanded in winter to keep patrons from falling. Much life is lived in the shadow of the el, or right next to it, unflappably. Even scholars read right next to it, in this library.
The Brown Line trains are running again now that repairs to the Wells Street Bridge have been completed. It was quite a project! When I took the train north across the bridge yesterday evening, the river was still crowded with repair barges and equipment. A tour boat plied the waters, carrying its passengers toward an up-close view of the site.
Images have been ‘posterized.’
Click to enlarge.
Sometimes the only thing separating a jaded Chicagoan from nirvana is a rusty guardrail.
How many times had I looked at this sign without seeing? Finally, one fateful day, responding to its call, I discovered the glories of Waveland Park, which lies at the end of Recreation Drive.
This large old lakeside park boasts tennis courts, playing fields for baseball and soccer, a nine-hole golf course, access to Belmont Harbor, picnic areas, magnificent lake and city views, and a bird sanctuary. The lakefront bike and running trail More
The North Pond is peaceful after a rain.
Beneath the Corn Cobs, the tables were all set up at Smith and Wollensky, for all those lucky souls intent on steak dinners tonight.
An organized slumberer occupied a bus shelter on North LaSalle. What’s next, indeed.
A driver awaited his party outside a sleek office building.
Snow had been sequestered at one end of Federal Plaza (note nearby police).
The post office, a glass oasis, filtered the action outside.
From beneath the Flamingo, their voices will rise. How many protests has this bird seen?
Even without seeing the big picture, you know where you are.
Banal in itself, Navy Pier offers perspectives of the city and water, romantic even on a gloomy day. As the rain fell, dappling the water, the ice pancakes like lilies, the most stalwart visitors remained outside, unfurling their umbrellas and pulling up their hoods.
To walk this stretch of park is to tread the very fringes of the city. To the left of the park, with its driving range and harbor, lie only the ribbon of Lake Shore Drive and the Lake. From the right, across the park’s patchy dimness, lights from the nearest congested neighborhood stream. In the funny glow of the clouds, the lives of the millions who dwell here are implied.
This photograph has been given a diffusion effect.
The North Avenue beach house is defiantly jaunty amid winter’s grey light and treacherous incrustations. Summer’s monument, the cruise-liner telegraphs to us, not an SOS, but the joy and innocence of summers past and to come.