In the morning we left without looking into the courtyard again. The roads had been plowed, and, as we drove, we marveled at how quickly the snow was melting away. In Indiana, the temperature was 52 degrees. By the time we reached home, it was nearly spring.
Seattle at night, seen from a cab we took to my mother-in-law’s.
Night never really sets in thoroughly in Chicago. We get closest to dark in summer, when the trees’ shadows leaf into a canopy, blocking out some of the streetlights’ glare. The lights are overly bright, to the point of making it hard to sleep.
How would we be affected were the city naturally dark at night? If the streetlights were fewer or more puny? For stay-at-home types, it would be quieter, more soothing; for live wires, much more an adventure to be out on the town.
I was skeptical when my husband suggested we watch the DC fireworks on television, but I became a convert and ended up taking hundreds of (impressionistic) pictures of the screen. Here are a few of my favorite explosions. Ineffably lovely!
Click to enlarge.
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.