Chicago’s new potholes are fascinatingly deep and dangerous. More like craters than potholes, they have suddenly appeared all over the city, like the pock marks of a virulent disease, democratically afflicting every neighborhood More
Yesterday I drove from Chicago to Minneapolis, where my parents will be moving in July. They live out east now, but, with the move to the Twin Cities, they will be nearer my younger sister and her family. I’m worried about their move–they’re elderly–so I’m here mainly to inform myself about where they’ll be living and to understand whether anything can be done to smooth their transition.
I drove up alone, so there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for photography, but I did stop to make a phone call at a rest area an hour or so above the Dells. Looking around, I happened to see this remarkable barn. If you enlarge the picture, you can see it better. It has a tower which I suppose was used for loading wheat or hay onto or off of wagons.
It was a beautiful drive up through Wisconsin. The fields are turning green, with the crops coming up in healthy, even rows.
I’m in the middle on the worry spectrum, but I do worry about safety when I’m in my car. I worry about getting into an accident as a result of not noticing some subtle danger around me. Tuned-out pedestrians, taxis, delivery trucks, and cyclists (like this one disregarding the traffic signal), add to the challenges of a drive through the Loop. The trains that periodically rumble overhead don’t help matters any.
That there are not more accidents surprises me, yet I’ve read that there were something like 2,500 accidents involving pedestrians last year.
I had to go out of town for the day, and on the way back passed an auto accident where someone may have been killed.
I was grateful to get home, where the view out the window seemed welcoming. Isn’t it strange that a collection of lights and shapes near and far can stand for coziness, for something reassuring? I guess I respond to the orderliness of the scene and the signs of so many people being at home.