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Aug. 10th, 2014 10:20 pm
Plain viewing
The "supermoon" was a super dud. I am fated to miss every single interesting meteorological event theoretically viewable from Chicago on account of intervening cloud cover. Two days ago, the forecast was for clear skies. By this morning, there was a 50% chance of thunderstorms. As of noontime that had climbed to 80% and it's just edged up to 90% while at the same time, the start time has been pushed later and later. So at least I was dry while I was standing shivering in the wind waiting for a chink in the clouds which never appeared.
Not to say there was no show in the heavens, but it was man-made. Foster Beach lies athwart the flight path for O'Hare, but in all the years I lived there, I never saw as many approaching planes in such a narrow slice of sky as I did tonight. One of my companions speculated that they were being forced into such a narrow corridor by the approaching bad weather. If not for running into him, I would've left probably a half-hour or more earlier than I did. He's one of the most consistently amusing and engaging people I work with, and it was a bummer to find out he's moving to London in the fall to pursue yet another graduate degree.
Big Chicks was quiet for a Sunday a beer bust on account of Market Days. A bit disappointing, but on the other hand, it's what brought out an old buddy of Diego's who I haven't seen in perhaps a year or more. Other than that the only people I really recognised in the crowd were employees of the bar (if you forget for a moment one acquaintance of recent vintage who was studiously ignoring me for inexplicable reasons of his own). So when he left, I did, too, leaving me with plenty of time to sit and contemplate the waters.
I don't feel less calm now than I did when I lived where I could pop down and view the Lake whenever I wanted. I wonder why that is--increasing maturity or just the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu effect? Maybe it wasn't the Lake itself so much as the distance from the enervating effects of technology. Sure enough, no sooner had I walked in the door but I logged onto Facebook and a good chunk of the equanimity I'd brought back from the shore was blown.
Not to say there was no show in the heavens, but it was man-made. Foster Beach lies athwart the flight path for O'Hare, but in all the years I lived there, I never saw as many approaching planes in such a narrow slice of sky as I did tonight. One of my companions speculated that they were being forced into such a narrow corridor by the approaching bad weather. If not for running into him, I would've left probably a half-hour or more earlier than I did. He's one of the most consistently amusing and engaging people I work with, and it was a bummer to find out he's moving to London in the fall to pursue yet another graduate degree.
Big Chicks was quiet for a Sunday a beer bust on account of Market Days. A bit disappointing, but on the other hand, it's what brought out an old buddy of Diego's who I haven't seen in perhaps a year or more. Other than that the only people I really recognised in the crowd were employees of the bar (if you forget for a moment one acquaintance of recent vintage who was studiously ignoring me for inexplicable reasons of his own). So when he left, I did, too, leaving me with plenty of time to sit and contemplate the waters.
I don't feel less calm now than I did when I lived where I could pop down and view the Lake whenever I wanted. I wonder why that is--increasing maturity or just the
monshu effect? Maybe it wasn't the Lake itself so much as the distance from the enervating effects of technology. Sure enough, no sooner had I walked in the door but I logged onto Facebook and a good chunk of the equanimity I'd brought back from the shore was blown.Tags: