Our plane’s descent carried us over a tapestry of light, as Chicago rolled out her welcome mat beneath a dark sky. The Christmastime city was a spangle of colors and patterns, with houses and businesses decorated for the holidays and the street lights glowing gold.
The trees bare of leaves, the underlying geometry of the city gleamed. Major thoroughfares stretched straight, without topographical interruption. Evident were a few diagonals, too, creating those 5 and 6-pointed intersections it’s best to avoid.
Where the tapestry unraveled, a dark city glowered, its skyscrapers oddly negated by the scope and brilliance of the surrounding tableau. The Lake, too, however great, was reduced to a mere negativity, featureless beside Navy Pier, the Hancock, and such fine municipalities as Hammond and Gary.
With such a view, we passengers sank, drifting down at last to the bottom of the night.
harley says
Those are nice pictures. Once in a while I fly into the city at night as well.
Celia says
I am the hokey one by the window, enthusiastically taking pictures as though I’ve never been up in the air before.
Seriously, I love aerial photography–its abstractions, as much as what, practically, one can see.