I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto

Ah friends! The fun and games we have as strangers in this confusing land.

Last night was one of those times. It had been a nasty day, weather-wise, with a thunderstorm first thing, and plenty of heat, joined by more than enough rain. Over dinner I shared with J. what I’d learned at the Nature Unleashed exhibition at the Field Museum the previous week. It had been an interesting visit, and I’d encountered plenty of new-to-me facts about earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes and tornadoes.

Can you see where this is going?

We couldn’t.

After dinner I curled up on the sofa with a book, listening to the wind and rain, whilst J. fine-tuned something undoubtedly vitally important in the insides of his computer, in the other room. It took me a while, but I realized I could hear a funny wail outside that wasn’t just the wind. I took a saunter through to the other room to comment on how it sounded strange. J. was uninterested, so, fairly stupidly given the strong winds, I opened the balcony doors to get a better listen. Definitely not the recommended action when you hear a civil defense siren – open your all glass, 12th floor balcony doors.

I was beginning to get concerned, hard to imagine, I know, so I turned to my trusty mac. Yes, there was indeed a severe weather warning for Illinois, it was, certainly, for Cook county, and look at that, it was a tornado warning with a predicted path that was due to arrive remarkably close by us in about 10 minutes. I was sure it wasn’t cool to panic. On the other hand, our apartment has floor to ceiling windows in almost all the rooms.

I tried to stop J. watching the thunderstorms out of those windows and join me in the bathroom – it’s the only room with no windows. Shortly after I succeeded in getting him out of the living room (six windows and the aforementioned balcony doors), the little red box in that room started to make ominous noises.

It appeared that the doorman was trying to send us a message over the building loudspeakers. He kept trying for a good five to ten minutes. White noise and static over and over, with the occasional mumble or phone ringing in the background. By now, I was starting to panic. If he was trying to tell the building residents something, I was getting to the point where I’d really like to hear it.

Finally, we were asked to use the stairwells and get to the first floor.

Ever well-prepared, downstairs we went, with a can of coke, a book and a sweater. And down stairs, and down stairs, and down stairs. Thank heavens we don’t live any higher than floor 12. Interestingly, the emergency staircase to the first floor took us out of the building and somehow we ended up outside. Luckily most of us had keys, so we were able to get back inside the lobby, but that’ll be something to remember: our emergency staircase is not to be used in any emergency which requires not being outside.

So, there we all were, in the lobby of our building. Waiting.

No tornado, downtown thankfully, although two were confirmed in the suburbs, but my husband was not to be talked away from the rattling windows. Lucky for you, as once we were allowed back upstairs, he captured some footage of the thunderstorms that continued to rage into the early hours of this morning. Here’s some free fireworks over the Sears Tower:

(If you click the hyperlink on the title of this video, you can be whisked to a place where you can see a second clip.)

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The Napoleon

At the crest of the park on the banks of the Galena river, there stand at least four pieces of armory. The cannons all face out onto to the river; the 1913 Krupp Howitzer, the Spanish Cannon, the Blakely Rifle, and the Napoleon.

We spent some time in the sunshine, taking pictures of the cannons, the views across to the picturesque city center, and the statue of city alumnus, General Grant.

I’m not entirely sure why I love old weaponry. I held a rifle once and it terrified me to the point of tears. In my defense, they were asking me to shoot at a target with it, and I did not feel at all confident that I’d been told how to achieve that. On the other hand, if you put an old-looking gun with the vaguest of historical links behind a glass case, or on a plinth in a park, I just feel like it’s begging to have its photo taken.

I can’t remember not finding military and naval histories fascinating. I can’t remember exactly why, but I have a good idea.

Hey Dad. I inherited your hatred of making phone calls, and your interest in naval histories.

That’s why it was impossible to resist the siren song of a 12-Pounder Field Gun, a civil war workhouse called Napoleon. Cast in 1862, the cannon has an indentation on the side of the breech. The crater has been worn smooth now, but was originally the result of a direct hit. In May of 1865, the Napoleon was fired in celebration of the capture of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. Hard to imagine that noisy history when the mottled, burnished breech is seen on a quiet, sunny Sunday morning.

Amazing how an instrument of war can remind you of where your interests came from, and make you feel loved!

Happy Love Thursday, a group feature hosted by ShutterSisters.

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Fall Sunsets

One of the reasons why I love living in our apartment is the amazing view of the setting sun. I think I’ve mentioned it before, but I haven’t the patience to check. I’m too impatient to show you the glorious sight from a few nights ago.

This particular morning, I had taken a cab ride to work because I was working in a different store, not sure where I was going, and running late. The route took us along Lakeshore Drive. It was such a beautiful, autumnal morning; cold, fresh and crisp. From inside the cab I was so jealous of the runners, cyclists and dog-walkers on the lake front path. There were not many. The lake front looks utterly bereft of people compared to how it did eight, or even four weeks ago. The lake was being buffeted by the infamous winds and everywhere just looked so clear. It is a journey I have made often, not always for work, but certainly not always for pleasure. However, it never fails to make me ashamed to be anything other than grateful that I live in such an amazing, beautiful city.

I thought to myself how sad it was that I never take the camera to work – no chance of capturing nature trying its best to cheer my day.

Then I came home, and while my husband worked on the computer and I prepared some dinner, nature gave me a second chance to show you how beautiful she can make Chicago look.

And I am so sad that I although I spent so long standing at the open window, hanging the camera precariously 12 floors above street level, although I spent quite some time standing out on the balcony in my slippers, I cannot possibly show you all the pictures I took on this one post. I’m not sure I’ll convince some people that these are not doctored in any way. They are just what we saw.

So click on the links, I chose. Not just because I stood there far too long, but because even with my amateur photographer skills – and I took a lot of photos to try and reproduce the density of the cloud or the color of the horizon – this is a hint of a sight which would make you want to come and live here, with me, in Chicago.

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Thunderstorms and Lightening; very, very frightening

I feel incredibly foolish sitting down to describe the storms which have been rolling around above us this afternoon. So far, all we have managed in running commentary is fairly banal; plenty of wows, a few crikeys and the ubiquitous awesome. Something so huge that it lights up the entire sky and yet so brief that it is over before it can be captured is hardly likely to be contained in a few words.

I came home from my shopping trip on the bus and watched totally indescribable lightening take over the sky. I think I may have mentioned it before, but it’s worth restating. Even the thunderstorms are bigger here.

The rumbles and flashes began just after I left the house – I could tell from the El station that I was going to get wet before I got home. Roosevelt station is, like many other CTA stations in the Loop, actually elevated above street level. Somehow, just south of the tallest of buildings, it is possible to get more of a feeling of being on a higher level. Expansive views east and west allow for seeing weather move in across the Lake or the western neighborhoods.

I know that it doesn’t compare to waiting out a hurricane, or a tropical storm and I’m really not complaining. I think I inherited a love of watching storms from my mother. Family holidays invariably involved rain. (We went to Wales a lot.) I also have distinct memories of watching a storm rage off the coast of Jersey with both my parents. Daddy and I were more than keen to get back to the hotel. Unlike here, with all the tall buildings, we were a real target for the lightening, what with being the only thing around for miles and sitting in a metal car. Mummy just wanted to watch one more lightening crack, just see one more wave crash against the lighthouse. It took a while to drag her away.

Here, under the shadow of the Sears Tower and the John Hancock Building, I am assured that I am a less likely target for a lightening strike. It is still a relief to finally get off the bus and close the door to the wind, rain and growls of thunder.

All of that is longhand for, we are sat in our apartment watching the lightening and I am imagining how it will feel when only canvas is protecting us from the wind and the rain. We’re still going camping. Please bring waterproof trousers and wellington boots.

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In which I use the words ‘Woah’ and ‘Lordy’ and awesome; because storms fry my brain

Wow.

I have been out for a meal here and so should be climbing into my pajamas and my bed. Chicago has other ideas.

Every two or three seconds the sky lights up as though the Gods in heaven are playing with their new camera and marvelling at how powerful the flash appears.

“See! Look how the Chicagoans are blinded!”

“Woah, might want to turn the red-eye reduction there.”

“Oh yes, it lights them up as if it were midnight in Vegas.” (Oh Lordy, is this my fault? Did they hear me bemoan the lack of neon?)

“Aren’t they getting excitable down there?”

“Oh yes, see how that SUV swerved dramatically around a parked car and pulled into the nearside lane immediately over an outlet, thus causing waves of considerable magnitude to soak the people stood at the bus stop.”

“Her umbrella is not much use against that.”

It wasn’t and I am soaked to the skin. Photographs could not do the fireworks this thunderstorm is providing justice. It must be right overhead as we could hear the rumbles inside the pub where we had previously been having trouble hearing each other in conversation. The only time I have seen rain like this before was one memorable holiday in Wales where there was a flash flood outside the chandlery in which we were sheltering. I half expected the water to come into the shop. I don’t think we’ve spent a holiday in Wales where it hasn’t poured with rain. In fact, I can confidently say that until two years ago I had never, ever seen Dollgellau without its accompanying rain and mists.

Where was I? Oh yes, mighty storm over Lake Michigan illuminating the whole of the Chicago skyline every few minutes. I am glad we live on the 12th floor, thus eliminating the need for an ark, or for me to continue to use the shoes I had been wearing. As I walked down the corridor they made more noise than a pair of flip-flops on a marble floor. I’m not sure the poor things will resume their natural shape after the thorough soaking which they’ve received.

Currently, the thunder and lightening have been going on for some time. It has reached the point where it’s impossible to avoid the flashes even with the blackout curtains in the bedroom. It really does deserve that overused American term ‘awesome’. For a split second, with each lightening flash, everything is lit up and then the sky resumes its orange-grey tinge ready for the next strike. No buildings have been struck yet, which is always a spectacular sight. Instead the entire sky lights up a pinky-blue each time. I’m not sure I’ll be sleeping for a while yet.

…..

…..

At least the peas won’t need to be watered tonight.

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