This city by the lake, built on the prairie home of mine, she fits me perfectly in some ways. But she still manages to startle me sometimes.
I grew up in the Midwest, yes, but my childhood Midwest is so different from that of my adulthood. Michigan, especially eastern Michigan is heavily wooded. Thoughts of prairie grasses taller than a man's head seemed so surreal to me as a child.....as far away as Laura Ingalls Wilder's life.
But then here, in this city. This urban oasis of steel and concrete and lights and the lake, there's still prairie grasses growing, even early in the spring. And for a moment, in my imagination, I can see the prairie stretching out far before me.
Then the roar of traffic and a glimpse of skyscrapers reminds me, I am here, in Chicago, today and now. And I say a little prayer. Thankful for the light that I've been obsessed with trying to capture this spring. Thankful for the lake I love. Thankful for the sky and the skyscrapers and the sidewalks and the little reminders of the Illinois prairies in the midst of the great big city.
I may have moved here for love. But love moves me here too.