During most of the winter in Chicago, the sky is a uniform leaden gray. Today, however, there was a moment of sunrise with some defined clouds. Right under the sunrise are the steel mills of Indiana with their plumes. During summer, the sun will rise over the Chicago Park District field house to your left.
More January sea smoke on Lake Michigan. See this article by Catherine Schmitt for the science behind sea smoke.
So much for the forces that help to jar men and boys loose, forces that have doubled in the last twenty years and are still increasing: New labor-saving machines, throwing more men out of work, new machines to make use of child labor, new machines to speed up the American pace and so turn out more cripples; rush and slack seasons, demanding more and more armies of surplus labor; the swift growth of industry, bringing to America millions of immigrants, over half of them young men who come alone; and most of all, the railroads, demanding increasing throngs of nomadic camp workers; the railroads, “the real hot circus,’’ tempting boys to the Road and giving to all kinds of hoboes easy and free means of travel. Lastly, the huge tenement hives, where year by year people are packed in tighter, where year by year life grows more nervous and tense and restless. And deep under all these conditions, responding to the chances they offer, the old human love of the Road that lies deep down in the souls of men — the “wanderlust” of humanity.Poole, Ernest. “A Clearing-House for Tramps.” Everybody’s Magazine, vol. XVIII, no. 5, May 1908, p. 657.
This house on E. Lake Front Dr. in Beverly Shores reminds me of a pilot or deck house. Intentional?
I spotted a photo in the “Snapshots” section under “Fawned Memories” with this caption and thought I should take my own photos (July 8, 2023).
Children drink from the David Wallach Memorial Fountain in 1955. When Wallach died in 1894, he left $5,000 for a fountain near the lake to supply water for “man and beast.” Sculptors Elisabeth Haseltine Hibbard and Frederick Cleveland Hibbard collaborated on the fountain, installed at the 55th Street entrance to Promontory Point in 1939. Elisabeth modeled the bronze fawn after a doe at the Lincoln Park Zoo. Her husband created the marble fountain, which includes a well in its base with water for pets and wildlife. Both had been students of Lorado Taft, who created the Fountain of Time sculpture on the Midway and taught at UChicago. Elisabeth also taught at the University from 1943 to 1950.University of Chicago Magazine, Summer 2022
August 29, 2023
J and I decided to see Save the Tunes at Chellberg Farm, but detoured to Indian Ridge Marsh, or Park 565 in Chicago Park District nomenclature. The last visit to Indian Ridge Marsh was in 2019, when the area by the Norfolk Southern tracks was open water.
First, we had to get there. We passed meadows of native flowers, including compass plants whose disappearance Aldo Leopoldo eloquently lamented. They’re thriving in natural areas in and around Chicago, such as the Calumet Region here and at Morton Arboretum.
We spotted monarchs and other insects, including an army of goldenrod soldier beetles intent on perpetuating the species.
A surprise awaited us at the end of this westbound trail (another trail, too wet and muddy to negotiate in 2019, heads south). The open water had filled in with aquatic plants in on both sides of the trail. which dead ends at the Norfolk Southern line. I hope they’re native. There was a piece of heavy equipment in the area, so I’d guess the Chicago Park District and volunteers are working on it.
I didn’t want to miss Save the Tunes, so I didn’t dawdle on the way to the lot. J called me back to look at beetles, which I never saw because was distracted by this:
This is a female white-banded crab spider, the same species of spider I witnessed killing a painted lady, an Eastern tiger swallowtail, and a skipper at Perennial Garden. They choose a flower and lie in wait for their unsuspecting pollinator prey. This one may have turned slightly yellowish after a few days on this tall tickseed flower. The ones I’d seen before (when I noticed the dying or dead butterflies) were embedded in the more intricate blooms of a butterfly bush or other flower and were nearly impossible to see. The male, by the way, is smaller and more colorful, and dines on nectar.
My final sighting of the day was a pair of American goldfinches on a pair of compass plants, with the female closer to the trail. At Perennial Garden, I’d noted the goldfinches favored the tiny stand of compass plants there.
Aldo Leopold would be happy.
This may go nowhere (and I’m too lazy to look to see if something exists), but a chance to map Cutler mailing system mail chutes and/or boxes.