chicago in the spring

by willeya

i don’t remember things by words, details or chronological events.  i remember them through feeling and senses.  usually it happens that something will give me the feeling of an earlier time and place and then i am more there than here.

the seasons are changing here in haddon heights, new jersey.  yesterday it was warm and sunny – atticus had beads of sweat on his nose.  on our walk, i saw young leaves on the trees and a tulip.  last night we went to bed hot and today we woke up cold.  this morning is damp, chilly, and gray – i think it will rain.  ahhh….this is spring.

i have spent the last 9 springs in chicago.  how can i not be reminded?  it’s like my body is in two worlds.  my physical shell is here in NJ.  but as the season changes – out of habit – i feel all sorts of chicago…

with this rain (it is raining now)… i am in my dorm at moody. it’s early morning and i walk to the kitchen of  Houghton 7, for what i cannot remember.  once there i look out the window (the kitchen has a lovely view of the city).  it is raining and the top of the buildings are covered with gray.  i feel relaxed, reflective and slowed down – a city rain always does that.

with these buds and tulips…  i am on  crowded michigan avenue – tulips are all around me.  purple – pink – yellow – red – orange – and even magenta! it’s warm and sunny and the breeze feels good.  all of these things can only mean one thing – i am with friends, feeling the satisfaction and freedom that comes with the end of another school year.  in the spring, life is happy and light.

with this warmth and cold – back and forth, back and forth – …i am in a sweatshirt, in front of lake michigan.   the winter has broken and the waves are free to crash again. it is easter morning sunrise.  we went to the lake to pray and sing.  i love how the wind swallows our words, making us small and Him so very big.  it is chilly and we stand close.  the wind – the lake – the morning chill  – the people – the reason to gather – it’s all so meaningful.

people tell me that jersey springs are longer lasting and more lovely than chicago springs.  this may be true but i don’t care.  it’s chicago that holds my heart.

i miss you chicago.  i miss you in the springtime even more.