Another dawn: joyous, painful, inconclusive. The streets of the Loop are beginning to jam. As the train flies south, each cross-street flies into view for a second, begging to be frozen in photographic time, a experience too fleeting to merit the name. More
A commuter waits for the el at mid-day. The snow and cold have been unrelenting. Thank goodness for the heat lamps in the platform shelters–without them, the wait for a train would be unbearable indeed.
Yes, the look of the river and the feel of the cold is important as I advance mechanically through my commute each day. The present is where we feel pleasure and pain, where we endure monotony, where we encounter ugliness so overwhelming that our minds fly off as soon as they can. More
One of my favorite moments commuting on the Brown Line comes when the train snakes along above North Avenue, briefly offering a broad view of Chicago’s skyline. This is how it looked on this winter morning.
One of the most blessed hours of the day is five o’clock, when workers stream out into the city streets, liberated from their jobs. The sunlight floats down along the endless facade of a pillared bank, intersecting with each tread, whether heavy or light.
In the afternoon, the shadows of tall buildings fall across the lakefront. This is the beach at Jane Addams Park, as seen from a bus.
The shadows gradually lengthen across the sand and water. . . . Here there looks to be a photographer standing on the shadow line.