While it’s true that I love the outdoors—cloaked in wildness or carefully maintained in procured natural areas—there’s something alluring about an urban setting. There a different wildness exists; still adventurous, still with spontaneity and unpredictability, still with its own innate beauty.
In the middle of a crazy week of unstable storms, full of heavy rains leading to flash flooding and swirling winds leading to destructive tornadoes, my nephew Ethan and I headed into downtown Chicago. He graduated from Beloit College last year with a degree in philosophy and computer science. And while he currently is working and saving money, he is contemplating the pursuit of his Master’s Degree; perhaps in Chicago with its opportunities to major universities, public transportation, and unique cultural environment. Our trip and Ethan’s interests were a perfect meld for a day in the city.
I picked him up early with the tailings of the previous night’s storm still playing out with the morning rush hour traffic. We had planned accordingly, however, and after exiting I-90 on Fullerton Avenue, we headed east to The Lake—Lake Michigan; passing DePaul University on the way to Lincoln Park. The urban gods found favor in our efforts and granted us a free parking spot along North Stockton Drive. The only required compensation was a tight maneuver of parallel parking; miraculously nailing it perfectly after one slight adjustment and an aggressive turn of the wheel.
Although Ethan had hit some of the same attractions we were planning to visit with some of his friends during his senior year, they’re the kind of places a person can enjoy time and again, and never really tire of what can be observed and learned. Different facets of time and experiences cut from the same diamond of a city you might say!
Through a gentle drizzle we used our ticket reservations and went to the Lincoln Park Conservatory. It was just as wet inside as out, but warmer of course; like an easy walk through a tropical jungle. So many unique varieties of plants exist there within the behind-the-scenes gardens; with different species blooming at various times of the year. Ethan and I talked while focusing on the colors and patterns of fronds, leaves, and branches. In order that my daughter could borrow our old Canon Rebel camera for an upcoming trip, I took numerous photos in the Conservatory to use up its film.
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| Sacred Ear Cycad |
Giant Maidenhair Fern
Philodendron
Lobster Claw
Yello Alder
Once finished, we walked down to the Lincoln Park Zoo. It too is free, and also a good one as zoos go. I know there are some people who don’t like zoos and the fact that animals are kept in pens and cages. Personally I see zoos as an opportunity. If people come and see different animals from around the world, then perhaps they will bond, learn something, and care about a specific species. And if a person cares about a specific species in captivity, then perhaps they’ll care about that same species still living in the wild. And just maybe, if those people learn about the locales of where that animal lives in the wild they’ll be more apt to do what they can to support the preservation of those environs. Zoos give us a glimpse of the ambassadors that represent the wilds of their species and the habitats where they live. Ethan and I enjoyed visiting the seals, big cats, and primates—places where we could enter to escape the gentle drizzle that at that moment had escalated to a steady rain. Despite the precipitation, the urban setting—with its many plants and flowers—was in full bloom; a week or two ahead of us back home some ninety miles to the northwest. Perhaps it was because of the location along Lake Michigan; the third largest freshwater lake in the world if measured by surface area and the second according to volume. I’m guessing that the water altered and escalated the coming of warmer temperatures.
We stopped back by the Jeep to shed our coats and switch out some gear as we prepared to take the bus downtown; while the weather gradually became a bit more agreeable. At the bus stop we waited for a good half hour. According to a few locals from the area, that particular bus route typically ran late. As Ethan and I waited and talked, other people and buses came and went.
One woman, who had originally offered us advice on how the buses ran—and was waiting for the same bus number that we were—struck up a conversation. She asked straight forward if I’d been to Kenya. With the slightly warmer temperatures, and me now wearing a T-shirt, she had apparently noticed the beaded bracelet around my wrist. I had gotten it 8 months prior when my wife and I had traveled in Africa to visit the home of our son and his young family. The bracelet had black, red, and green stripes separated by thin white bands and was covered with two Masaai shields with criss-crossing spears. Ironically, Ethan was wearing a similar bracelet that we had brought back as a gift for him following our trip. Unless someone was acquainted with Kenya, and the flag’s design, it would most likely have gone unnoticed to unfamiliar eyes.
As it turned out, the woman had been to Kenya’s capital city of Nairobi several times through the World Vision organization whom I was familiar with—having helped raise money for them when I ran in the Chicago Marathon 3 or 4 different times. While waiting for the bus we shared stories of our experiences in Africa, the people, and things we had personally learned while visiting.
Our bus finally arrived; guided by an experienced driver and partner in training. How they constantly maneuvered the long vehicle through the traffic and avoided wrapping it around parked cars, poles, or any other object remained a mystery!
A hop, skip, and a jump south of the Magnificent Mile and the Chicago River we stepped off the bus across from and in front of the Art Institute. All told, we spent a good 3 hours walking from room to room—through various displays, genres, and time periods; immersing ourselves in the creativity, message, and purpose behind each medium. We walked through the special Henri Matisse exhibition; “Jazz: Rhythms in Color”, and then made our way through the Institute's maze of hallways, levels, and wings.
Ethan and I saw most everything. My favorites were nature and water scenes—especially with reflections and tree branch outlines—in addition to eras long since passed. I also felt a connection to the statues depicting body and motion. Lacking proper descriptive and artistic wordage, I found myself enjoying smooth lines, classic imagery, and colors that lured one to take a closer look—whether dark or vibrant. I like dreaming of walking into a painted scene.
Vincent van Gogh - Fishing In Spring
the Pont de Clichy (Asnières)
Clude Monet - Water Lily Pond 
Alberto Giacometti
Walking Man II & Tall Figure
Piet Mondrian - Farm near Duivendrecht
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| Pablo Picasso - The Old Guitarist |
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| Hamo Thornycroft - Teucer |
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| John Atkinson Grimshaw Lane Scene at Night |
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| Grant Wood - American Gothic |
With that being said, we also toured all of the contemporary and modern art exhibits. Some of them I enjoyed; with their textures, colors, and use of abstract or unusual materials—ones that made you think. Some remained a puzzlement, and that was okay. Admittingly there were a couple that in trying to gain perspective and studying them up close, they would suddenly spring forth into focus and I would nervously blush and back up; embarrassed by my intent concentration and curiosity prior to the stark revelation of what I was actually viewing. Well done unknown artist! Your efforts were accomplished and rewarded and I can appreciate that; despite being a bit self conscious. I’m not sure what my nephew thought—if he even noticed—crazy uncle! It just took me a bit longer to understand what it was that I was actually viewing; yikes!
By the afternoon we were primed, ready, and hungry! It was our intent to fully enjoy our day so we could dive into the experience of a restaurant that’s been a family favorite for as long as we can remember. I believe the first time that my wife and I went to the Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinder Co. was shortly after college in the late 1980’s or early 1990’s—with some close friends. Since then we’ve eaten there whenever we can and most times that we’re down in the city. It’s become a destination for our kids now as well.
Following a bus ride back to Lincoln Park, and a walk over to Clark Street, Ethan and I got right into the restaurant and seated—something that doesn’t always happen but felt apropos for the day. Being his first time eating in that unique “hole in the wall”, we got the traditional Mediterranean Bread as an appetizer. It’s a lot for two people to tackle, but we gave it our best effort and knocked out most of it. The bread with its herbs tasted great; bordering on addictive! Next came our half pound pizza pot pies as the main course. With the combination of crust, sauce, cheese, and sausage, the word divine came to mind. After a long day it was well worth the wait! After a long day it hit the spot! After finishing, we each left with a small amount we would have for lunch the following day!
Upon walking back to my Jeep, we got situated, headed out of the city, and started back home. As we drove, talked, and listened to music, the skies darkened. In fact, far to the west—where we were headed—the heavens were in full display of their power and intentions. Clouds swirled and lightning flashed in constant plasmatic blasts. As we neared home, tornado warnings were issued and within minutes of our exit from the tollway, the rains unleashed. We had been so close to making it!
Ethan texted home and as we pulled into his driveway the garage door opened so we could enter and spare him getting soaked. With a quick goodbye, I drove the short distance to my home with the windshield wipers going full bore; before it got any more dicey outside! Surprisingly it was the second night in a row with that same type of weather. At the same time, it seemed like a perfect ending to what amounted to a perfect day. It was a day that became an urban adventure with my nephew Ethan within the city of Chicago.
See you along The Way…
