Cityscape

Today takes me back to my days in Chicagoland. It's sunny, cold and gusty, a classic Windy City forecast. A blinding sun lights a blanched blue sky. The wind whistles in ears and up pant legs and the biting air, devoid of moisture, gives an instant facelift. Crisp leaves scurry down streets, their uneven shapes skipping like stones across water. Foliage tornadoes swirl up against brick walls, catching various bits and butts in their impromptu funnels. A warm bouquet of hot dogs, onions and white bread wafts tantalizingly by. Like moths to a flame, construction workers queue to call out lunch orders at street carts. Whaddaya have, the usual? Strong voices debate sports and corruption on commandeered park benches. Dirty white taxis honk and weave down crowded arterials as a policeman directs impatient traffic with a shiny, shrill whistle, gloved hands and a frown.

An autumn Friday in a veteran city.