grumble grumble

Stormy skies brew overhead, bending the trees and making things bang. April snow falls as I walk down the sidewalk and I feel small. Living in Chicago, people get used to a feeling of powerlessness, that something or somebody else is in control. This city can dwarf a person, with its big buildings, expansive reach, and vaulting skies. The extreme cold and heat humbles you, and it happens regardless of your busy schedule. There are no earthquakes, but the thunder grumbles like a big tummy digesting its meal. Time passes, you have no control, perhaps this is why it seems people age less on the west coast – a false sense of control over circumstances - and perhaps this is why Chicagoans put up with the Daley dynasty – they have come to accept it when things don't change. Maybe it is comforting, when the sleet batters your roof, and the weather is on the loose again, the best you can do is trudge on, get inside and wait out what you can't control.