As quickly as November was ushered in, it has been rushed out. Things seem to be moving faster now, and I find myself worrying again about time. Where did this year go? How is it possible we’re a month today from Christmas?
Chicago’s Navy Pier is a happening place in summer. Warm summer breezes straight off Lake Michigan, ice cream stands, Ferris wheel rides. But for me, there’s something so beautiful and haunting about visiting places that define summer near-abandoned in the winter time.
Only a few weeks ago, we were diving off the pier and into the cool, clear waters of Lake Michigan. Impromptu weekday swims. Afternoons spent drying off in the warm breeze. But as autumn gains momentum, this summer seems more and more like a dream.
That thing where … you start to feel as though you’re finally part of the fabric of the city. THAT.
Recently, the American and I decided on a plan of action for the next few months: We were going to spend the rest of the summer (and perhaps a little longer) in Chicago. “But why Chicago?” everyone asked. “Why not?” was my response.
You know the feeling when you suddenly feel inspiration all around you? Everywhere I turn, it’s beautiful, engaging, inspiring. The taste of bing cherries, the smell of salt on the bay air, the glorious sunsets, the graffiti etched into library desks. It’s as though I have been asleep for weeks.