I’m sitting in a park down the street from my apartment in Evanston listening to the world wake up. It’s not unlike an episode of sunrise earth. When i sat down there was a single mother and child on the swing set some 50 feet to my right. The clock has counted off 30 minutes and in that time the park and surrounding neighborhood have opened it’s eyes and stretched to a beautiful July morning.

The mother and child have been joined by a host of other families. A man is exercising his dog by running him from one end of the park to the other, stopping only to take in a new scent after the 100 yard sprint. The metra train has buzzed by three times, providing a familiar, but definite roar.

Even overhead the inbound flight path to O’Hare airport has seen an increase in traffic. All the while my reading spot, a new composite plastic bench damp with last night’s rain has warmed and dried as the sun rises and begins to pour light down on Chicago instead across it’s Lake Michigan shore.

It is a beautiful moment and one that I should aim to recreate more frequently.