Springtime in Chicago

Chicago is the first place I’ve lived for an extended period of time that really, truly has seasons. And anyone who’s lived through a Chicago winter knows just how important spring is. The first 40-degree day is Prozac for our vitamin D-dampened spirits. Windows are open, sidewalks are filled with people, neighbors re-acquaint with neighbors and the most daring throw on shorts, flaunting those winter-white legs.

Then come those 60-degree days, when flowers are blooming, patios are packed and even the outdoor cats seem to be grinning. It feels like we made it through, yet again, and things are on the upswing.

That’s how last weekend was. Glorious. Blooming. Bustling.

Let’s not discuss the series of grey, cold, rainy days that have followed, reminding us of just how fickle April can be. Instead, let’s look at all the pretty spring pictures I snapped when the sun was shining, and remind ourselves that they’ll be here again–most likely–sometime before June.

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