Commuters: Of Men and Mosquitoes

The telephoto view from Darci's deck - including the Sears Tower, now called the Willis Tower

I spent the weekend in Chicago, visiting my sister, Darci. My other sister, Lisa, was my unofficial travel agent, booking the tickets and making the arrangements for me and her youngest daughter, Abby. (More snapshots from our trip to come tomorrow.)

On Monday morning, Darci flew out of O'Hare at 7:10 for work. A little while later, we three Kansans walked several blocks away to the Blue Line, dragging our suitcases behind us. As we tried to figure out how to purchase train tickets to O'Hare, we heard the transit workers warning: "The trains are very crowded today. Expect crowded platforms and long waits."

When we got to the top of the stairs, there was a sea of people stretched on the other side of the platform. Thankfully, they were all going toward the city, and we were going the opposite direction toward O'Hare.

We watched as a train pulled to a stop. Through the windows, as the train slowed, we could see people squished together. Standing and sitting, shoulder to shoulder, we wondered how anyone else could squeeze in.

As the first train departed and our airport-bound train arrived, we saw that most of the people on the other side were still waiting.

 

Then, as our Blue Line train zoomed its way down the elevated tracks toward O'Hare, we saw highways that seemed more like parking lots than expressways as they, too, were clogged with commuter traffic. I said a prayer, thankful for my little spot on Planet Earth where there aren't a couple million people.

But you know what? There are a couple million mosquitoes. And I think they're all in my neighborhood. Yesterday morning, I went outside a little after 6 o'clock to celebrate being home and to watch the sunrise in solitude.  I took three photos before I leaped back into the car so I wouldn't get eaten alive by mosquitoes. None of the photos will win any awards. The sky was pretty enough, I suppose, but I was too busy slapping mosquitoes to really see it.

And Monday night, there was a broken baler when Randy was ready to bale more hay than we've had in several years.(It's since been fixed, and he's back on the tractor this morning.)

We all have our challenges, whether our skyscrapers are like this ...

... or on the plains of Kansas.

And we can find beauty whether it's planted in narrow townhouse gardens ...

... or in fields of hundreds of acres.

There are challenges and joys no matter your zip code.