Can it already be the end
of February? Just a few more days
and we’ve entered the month of March and, soon, the beginning of spring. And after the misery of a few cold rain
showers, it will be summer – the giddy, glorious season of the sun.
 |
| The city from Diversey Harbor (JWB, 2011) |
I’ve lived in a lot of
places and visited a whole lot more, and I don’t think there is a better city
in the summer sun than Chicago.
Just station yourself somewhere around Diversey Harbor on a sunny day, with the highbrow high-rises of the Gold Coast edging along the
green expanse of Lincoln Park on the other, and the great towers of downtown in the distance. You’ll see what I mean.
We set all that aside for
the seasonal factoring of this waning set of dark months. The sand berms, plowed up before the
season began, guard the beaches and snow fences, soon to be picked up, line the
length of the lakefront. The
gardens south of the Lincoln Park conservatory, lovely and lush this summer,
lie stripped bare. But there is
still some light at 6:00, and a new season is about to begin.
We must be close . . . I
just signed up for my first river tours of the season as a docent of the
Chicago Architecture Foundation.
It doesn’t seem like two months since the last bridge-raising of the
year took place. I was lucky
enough to be giving an architectural tour of the Chicago River when the
Columbus Drive Bridge opened shortly before 9:00. It’s always a magnificent sight . . . these massive bridges
raising sequentially, stopping traffic on a Saturday morning, while the last
few one per centers sail their yachts up the river.
 |
| The last bridge raising of the 2011 season -- The Columbus Drive bridge rises (JWB, 2011) |
In a couple months they
will all be raising once again, and the boaters will be heading out toward the
lake and a whole new season of warmth and possibility.
But now the harbors are
empty and, like the boaters, we have had just about enough of hoisting the
summer part of ourselves into the dark of winter storage.
I always miss the
summer. It doesn’t matter how soft
a cashmere scarf is, it’s still no substitute for sandals and shorts.
For me it was a great
summer. Jill and I became grandparents
for the first time and little Maddie Jane, she of the ready smile and sunny
disposition, has made us a couple of decades younger. Picco the Pooch came to stay with our other daughter down in
Champaign, and the little guy made us remember how great it is to take a dog
for a walk when the weather’s fine and you’ve got the time.
 |
| At work on a C.A.F.-First Lady architectural tour (B. Hoffmann, 2011) |
I spent much of the time
on the deck of an architectural tour boat. It didn’t seem like it at the time, and it doesn’t seem like
it now, but I gave 120 tours of the Chicago River since the beginning of the
season last May. Volunteering for
the river tour is a dream job for an old retired teacher.
You can’t beat the
experience. I’ve stood up there
with a microphone in my hand in every sort of weather. Pouring rain, slashing down so hard I
couldn’t even see the buildings on Erie Park from the river, the only time all
summer where not a single sole was up on deck with me. One dark Wednesday I stood in a cold
rain with the wind blowing so hard that city officials closed the lakefront
bike path for fear that the 25-foot waves would wash someone into the drink.
I got stung between my
forefinger and middle finger by an angry wasp one sunny afternoon as I was
pointing to the top of 360 North Michigan. Had a full cup of iced coffee land at my feet after someone
waving to our boat from the Adams Street Bridge lost his grip on the Starbuck’s
cup.
But there were far more
glorious Chicago moments than bad.
I gave a tour to the President of Croatia and a couple months later to
Rosie O’Donnell. A group of five
bridesmaids, all in yellow, along with their attending groomsmen and the bride
and groom captivated everyone on the boat one Saturday morning as they greeted
us from the Kinzie Street Bridge.
And on a beautiful October afternoon to little Maddie Jane and her
mom. Maddie slept the whole
90 minutes.
 |
| Chicago waits for the promise of summer (JWB, 2009) |
Mostly, though, I remember
the sun and the beauty, always brand new, of this spectacular city,
wrapped ‘round by a gentle river and capricious lake. It’s a great city, a complex city, caught between the
extremes of nurturer and destroyer, of beauty and terror.
A city that rises from the
flatness of the Midwestern prairie, throwing up shimmering spires next to a
lake that laps at the grasslands.
It’s a great city, a world-class city, and I can’t wait for summer to
show it off.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment