5 July 2009
Philipp and I exited the theater and into the city magic of downtown Chicago. It’s breathtaking to cross the river, look at sparkling water below and flashing cars alongside. Your eyes slide up the tall buildings, examining black, white, grey stone. The ornate, like the Tribune building adorned with a gothic chapel, stand next to those sleek and modern. In the dark, the urban jungle becomes an enchanted forest arching into the night sky. And then there are the lights—millions sparkling against the black; workers working late suddenly becoming bright as Christmas lights, little jewels in the darkness. The air was warm, yet fresh, and I spun around on the bridge, watching the urban landscape already so strange and magical, twinkle.
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