By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)
The summer, at least here in Chicago, has been sultry and scorching, the sun frequently scintillating from the blue sky often void of clouds.
Yes, the days of June and July of 2018 have been marked at times by record heat, tropical dew points and often fierce, drenching thunderstorms that swept across the metropolitan area, leaving flooded roadways, shattered tree limbs and a reminder that the forces of nature can often prevent the even emboldened from venturing out from the safety of a covered roof and air conditioning for very long.
And, it’s only the first week of July.
Still, there’s much to revel about in summer, much to savor. Like finding a favorite summer place.
Mine is depicted in the image above, the front porch of our Avondale home. There, on the corner of two one-way streets, I can observe or appreciate:
- The evolution of our neighborhood, from decidedly diverse and middle class to increasingly youthful, Caucasian, artsy and professional.
- People in motion, on foot, on bicycles, on skateboards, on scooters and pushing carriages. People walking dogs, people with arms outstretched, their eyes and attention directed to a handheld.
- The flight and calls of all sorts of birds — robins, cardinals, sparrows, grackles, crows, finches and, this being Chicago, pigeons.
- The emergence of fireflies and the symphonic sounds of cicadas, unseen but yet there.
- Vendors selling frozen desserts from push carts, including the Hispanic man with the tanned skin who knows I prefer the lime popsicle.
- Peaks from the sun coming through the trees to the east in the morning, and the remaining rays of light to the east at dusk.
- The opportunity to read without a light, not caring if my mind wanders off the page, the result of a distraction by the world around me.
In essence, simple things, aspects of the world around me punctuated by the perspective provided by positioning my posterior on my modest perch.
Bring on more heat. I don’t care. It’s always cool in my favorite summer place.
Now, what’s yours?
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Have a little more time? Then read my essay, “The Greening of Avondale,” written in fall of 2017 for a Non-Fiction Writing Workshop class.