It’s the time of year when Chicago comes alive. Restaurants dust off their patios. Winter coats get buried in the closet. Windows are opened and the stuffiness of winter is aired out. The breeze is no longer painful…but warmly welcomed. People come out in masses to take in the day. To feel the the sunshine. And to welcome Spring. Every year…without fail…there is always that one weekend. The one that ignites the city and reminds us all of why we love it here so much. That one day where 60 feels like 80…and you drive with your windows down and your heat on. Just to prove to yourself winter is over. People always ask me why I live in a place with such disgusting, harsh winters. A place where the windchill is arctic and walking is all too common. The seasons are why. Last weekend is why. I’ll take 6 months of blistery just to be able to experience the day when it breaks. There is truly nothing like it.
While the rest of the city was out soaking up the sun…Gary and I did what we do best. Nothing. We opened the doors and windows…and napped to the smell of fresh air. We may not have been jogging the lakefront or dining on a patio…but we were completely content soaking up Spring. Our way.
Happy Spring Chicago!