.jpg)
Monday, September 22, 2008
Through the fog
6:56 PM | 
Posted by
Christine
The fog was so dense that I could almost pretend it was an early spring morning. Visibility was only a few feet, and the air was completely still as I was leaving the house at 6:15 this morning. I had to be downtown for an early meeting, and the sun was still contemplating whether or not it was going to come up.
The air smelled of fall, though, and the few yellow leaves that were scattered on my driveway left no doubt that spring was quite a long way off. Suburban winter lay between us like a snarling beast, and it was intent on making the journey as difficult as possible.
I pretended anyway.
The world was quiet. The small crowd gathered on the platform at the train station was relatively subdued. Several men stood with their ties still hanging loosely around their necks, and many women crowded into the small shelters where it was warm. As the train approached, we climbed silently inside, finding corners into which we could curl up and watch the world pass.
Crossing the river was nearly surreal - plumes of white fog rose like campfire smoke toward the bridge as the sun began its subtle attempts to push the mist back from where it came. The intercom was startlingly loud as the recorded voice announced that we were now approaching the next station. People stared emptily out the windows. I wondered if this was a function of the fog, or merely the fact that this was one of the earliest trains of the day. For me, it was a combination of both, and I just couldn't seem to make the morning seem real.
When I stepped off the train and into the city, everything immediately changed. Cabs flew around corners as swarms of people moved with a determined purpose. The air was crisp and clear.
Everything was humming.
It struck me how much I love this city, and how alive it makes me feel. Every time I venture in from the suburbs, it hits me all over again. And I smile.
When the time is right, I will make the move in. Every day will begin with the motion of the city, and I will become a part of the vibrancy that is Chicago. Even with its warts, its costs, and its hectic pace, I have fallen in love with it. Who would have thought, even ten years ago, that I would come to such a place?
Not me. But then again, we're never sure where it is that our evolution will take us.
The air smelled of fall, though, and the few yellow leaves that were scattered on my driveway left no doubt that spring was quite a long way off. Suburban winter lay between us like a snarling beast, and it was intent on making the journey as difficult as possible.
I pretended anyway.
The world was quiet. The small crowd gathered on the platform at the train station was relatively subdued. Several men stood with their ties still hanging loosely around their necks, and many women crowded into the small shelters where it was warm. As the train approached, we climbed silently inside, finding corners into which we could curl up and watch the world pass.
Crossing the river was nearly surreal - plumes of white fog rose like campfire smoke toward the bridge as the sun began its subtle attempts to push the mist back from where it came. The intercom was startlingly loud as the recorded voice announced that we were now approaching the next station. People stared emptily out the windows. I wondered if this was a function of the fog, or merely the fact that this was one of the earliest trains of the day. For me, it was a combination of both, and I just couldn't seem to make the morning seem real.
When I stepped off the train and into the city, everything immediately changed. Cabs flew around corners as swarms of people moved with a determined purpose. The air was crisp and clear.
Everything was humming.
It struck me how much I love this city, and how alive it makes me feel. Every time I venture in from the suburbs, it hits me all over again. And I smile.
When the time is right, I will make the move in. Every day will begin with the motion of the city, and I will become a part of the vibrancy that is Chicago. Even with its warts, its costs, and its hectic pace, I have fallen in love with it. Who would have thought, even ten years ago, that I would come to such a place?
Not me. But then again, we're never sure where it is that our evolution will take us.
1 comments:
I'm so jealous. But you knew that already.
There is, however, apparently a gig at Northwestern. It would look dicey if I left here after just one year, but dude...Chicago. My favorite city. (Jawa Girl's too!)
And of course, my dearest* non-wife friend right there.
*Oldest friend too, though I hate using anything involving the word "old" lately. Dang knees...
WF