They all congregated around the towering spitting Crown Fountain, gazing up at giant eyes or to the puddles or to their friends with selfie sticks, digital cameras with ginormous lenses, iPads, iPhones. Some skipped capturing the moment but were laughing, pointing, hugging, ignoring, whispering a sweet love word, lost in music, chasing, resting, reading, working.
One small blond girl in a mint-colored swimsuit was oblivious to everything but the changing mosaics and the handprints she formed on the dry pavement. She alone made people gaze, hunger for their children to slip back to innocence for one day, or to reminisce in their minds about a secret day in their life of such abandon.
They were of every ethnicity: grandparents, families, students, hipsters, business women, runners, homeless, parents, children, a dog, tourists. Heads were topped with neon orange hair, purple hair, no hair, hats, braids, head sets. They spoke multiple languages, looked to be from a wide swath of backgrounds and economic stratospheres, walkers, strollers, painters, dreamers, rappers.
And you know what? Despite the never-ending sorrow we hear in the news, the horrible daily stories of lives cut short, in this group of people milling around, brought together on Michigan Ave, there was peace, smiles, exchanges. No one cared about the differences between us. We were One, if just for that snapshot in time.
We all enjoyed the art, the destination and this swampy, summer-like Chicago night, the moment. A smile, a nod, a wave to those around. I wish for more lovely moments like this, slowing the undulating motion in the city.