Notes on spring

–That sunshine feels different; wait it’s warm — is that how warm feels? I remember the heat lamps, on the el platform, when you turn your face up toward them, you feel like a daisy basking in the sun except it’s a heat lamp and it’s actually unspeakably cold, but this… this feels like sun and it is sun.

–Change rumbles, low change, small change. The sign for Augie’s diner came down yesterday; the owners packed up and retired; the welders took it down and a group of pre-schoolers with their teacher stopped to watch. The sign was one of those hefty metal ones with all the lightbulbs bordering it like a dressing-room mirror. We once sat in their wide, red leather booths and had hamburgers and milkshakes. I felt important; red leather does that. So does a good milkshake. I don’t think I ate the hamburger.

–I love bare tree branches. I saw a truck full of bare tree branches and wanted to jump in and build a sculpture or take a picture. But leaves, well, leaves mean spring and I will take that.

–At the Field Museum I learned how dinosaurs came from fish and are now birds, and so are we. I’m glad I know that; I pay more attention to the birds who migrate back here, more each day.

 

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