they call it the windy city

The wind is kicking up and the air is getting that bit of electric feeling that happens in the summer. More and more threads bind me here. Chicago is becoming comfortable, even though at times I don't like it. The winter was hard, but we did sit in a neighborhood bar the other night (the "Chip Inn") and drank beer while a jazz band played in the corner, the door open on the first warm night in a long time. I can see it in eager faces and hear it in friendly voices, that I could become enmeshed here, I could let Chicago in. It's possible to remember the good things about this city when there is no ice on the ground. I can begin to wonder if Chicago is smarter than I think it is; I will live here, go about my business, until one day I can't think of living any place else. Just like that. Without realizing that Chicago has played one hell of a trick on me.