Every headstone in every cemetery is a marker of loss, of what was and is no longer. But particularly painful are the headstones of children, which mark both loss and potential – of all that could have been.
Well this seems like an extremely unfair way to go about treating trespassers… haven’t they suffered enough?
Liz and I spotted this, while heading home yesterday. We were going south on Lake Shore Drive, and saw this large pickup truck hauling a very pink Barbie truck in the bed.
As I was browsing around, a woman said behind me “I’ve got another box.” I turned, and saw she had set out yet more books to go through. I learned a lot of them were Philosophy books (she and her husband were both professors, I think). I learned that they’re moving, and that these books are a small sample of what they had inside the house.
On our way home on Friday, Liz and I stopped by the Hyde Park Garden Fair that was going on. We passed it earlier in the day, and by the time we swung by they were starting to close up shop.
When I touched him on the shoulder he seemed to perk up a bit. I asked if he had anywhere he could go and crash, if I could call him a cab. Part of me wanted to help and part of me was thinking that maybe I could move him away from the cop, maybe avoid him being arrested.
Walking home, I was stopped in my tracks by a spider web that turned out to be bigger than I first imagined. It’s tough to see in this photo, but if you look above the diamond pattern above the doorway, you can make out a thin strand of web. Not only did the spiderweb cover almost all fo the window on the ground floor, it extended a significant length to the balcony ledge nearby.
Monotony plays its tricks on the senses, and I found myself on the CTA Blue Line an older version of that kid, a little immune to the world going by. On seeing these large windows, it made me remember what it was like to be enamored with the world, and reminded me I should pay a little more attention on my daily commute.
It’s funny how I’ve walked past this stretch of Logan Boulevard countless times, but just noticed this out of the corner of my eye recently. As weathered as this looks, it seems like it’s been here a good while. I wonder how long he’s been hiding, and I also wonder how many of my neighbors even know he’s there.
Didn’t have my camera with me, but snapped this with my phone at the Western stop. I was walking towards the exit when I noticed everyone else had pretty much left the platform. When I stopped, I looked over to see the sun setting behind the turnstiles and bars.
It was kind of a peaceful moment, and reminded me how much I’ve missed the sun these last few months.
We arrived around 5:45PM or so, and were among the first people there. The interior decor felt really warm and elegant, including everything from the display behind the bar to the plates and napkins in front of us. There were some neat tincture/containers being used by the bartenders, and I remembered thinking that Justin would really dig this place.
It’s amazing to me how anyone can do this without burning their lips off. I know the goal is to have the flame be a certain distance from your face, but my fear is that the fire would somehow leapfrog back and light my mouth on fire.
On my walk home today, I spotted this small leaflet, pushing up towards the sunlight. This was a small opening in the sidewalk (that looks like it might have been previously repaired), just before the Logan Square Comfort Station.
I honestly have no idea what this is. Maybe it’s an ad for something, but my first reaction was that it was a kind of pictogram puzzle. My brain keeps wanting to apply some kind of narrative or logic to this image, but all I’ve come up with so far is “steam haircut.”
Spotted this on the way home – an awesome Monopoly property replica, painted right onto the sidewalk. I love that it’s my neighborhood, that it’s in my neighborhood… and that my neighborhood’s got no price tag.