Now I am somewhat more confident about the mechanics of this, here is my latest “letter from”, I am still experimenting.

Now read on:

Walking the streets of Chicago at 5:30 in the morning is not as eerie as I thought it would be; certainly it is dark, as the sun will not be up for a another hour or so, but there is traffic on Lakeshore Drive and a few well-bundled persons on the streets, insulated coffee cups in hand, scurrying to an early starting job.  The western shore of Lake Michigan is about 1 mile from Jane and Sam’s house (to be called J&S henceforth) where I have alighted as my first stop in the US after Spring, Summer and Fall in CDP.  The path from J&S to the Lake goes east on Berwyn Avenue and under the elevated suburban railroad that takes you downtown, and I imagine that most of these early voyagers are heading for the Berwyn station to catch a train to somewhere in or around the city center.  The trains run all night.  And they say that New York is the city that never sleeps!

Beneath the station itself and just to the left of the flight of stairs that takes you up to the platforms is a little hole-in-the-wall shop run by a Pakistani couple.  They open at 4  AM to provide coffee, snacks, newspapers, candy and other sustenance to the commuters.  After the station, Berwyn continues east until it meets Sheridan where it seems to terminate. But not so, a few paces north on Sheridan, Berwyn starts up again and takes you under Lakeshore Drive into Lincoln Park.  The park is situated between Lakeshore and the lake itself and runs for miles to the north and the south along the lake shore. Like any park it has lots of trees and greensward and it is threaded through with trails for walking, running, strolling and biking.  However, unlike many city parks , it has the magnificent Lake Michigan as its eastern margin.  So I am once again at a place where the land meets a huge mass of water, of major appeal to me.

When you enter the park you have covered about 1 mile from J&S  and turning south you can go on for many more miles along,  or proximate to, the water’s edge, where you have an uninterrupted view across the water to the horizon, just over which is the western shore of the state of Michigan.  This morning, as yesterday, the sky is cloudless, and approaching the lake the planet Venus is bright in the dark sky which is graying close to the horizon, heralding the imminent sun. Over to the west planes are already rising from O’Hare, like larks  from meadows, and heading out to the lake where they would bank to attain their planned trajectories

Continuing the walking for another mile or so along the trail I meet other walkers, or are overtaken by runners, all people who, like me, want to exercise but prefer to get it out of the way at the beginning of the day.  But so early?  My excuse is that I am just in from Italy, a seven hour time difference, so crawling out of bed at 5 AM in Chicago is equivalent to not getting up until noon in Europe.  It seems that early rising fits in well with the schedule at J&S.  Both Jane and Sam are dedicated distance runners and they prefer to do their training spins prior to going to work, hence the early hour.

So after another mile I turn around and retrace my steps to J&S.  By now, over my right shoulder the sky is becoming grey-blue and overhead the wispy cirrus are painted orange, or light pink.  Then, moments later, an almost imperceptible filament of red light seemingly peers, somewhat hesitatingly, over the horizon, and, having assured itself that all is well, the filament assumes the shape of a rosy segment, then a semicircle and finally a brilliant red disk emerges out of the water: the sun has risen and a new day has begun in Chicago.

Back at Berwyn station I call in at the shop to buy a New York Times, a newspaper that I have not held in my hands since last March.  Somehow it seems too heavy, and I recall a story told to me by Warren Garrison, my post doc mentor at the Lawrence-Berkeley laboratory some 45 years ago.  He was from The mid-west where the daily newspapers were thick and heavy, thick enough so that when carried across your chest under your coat, it would help to alleviate the frigidity caused by the biting winds off the lake.  Anyway Warren’s story was that once he went on a trip to England and selected a newspaper off a pile at a news-stand.  On walking away he was called back by the vendor who complained that he had paid for one paper but had taken three.  Warren had unthinkingly picked up enough until he felt to have got the weight and thickness of a typical American daily!

And so CDP is behind me.  I left with some sadness because I had grown to love the picturesque place, a few of the Castiglione people and some people from far-off Grosseto.  I experienced much friendliness and kindness.  I think that it was good to begin my sojourn there in the early Spring before the influx of the tourists.  At that time it was just me and the locals and we were able to easily recognize one another.  Of course, Posto Pubblico helped, because there, Valentina introduced me to her friends that came to visit, mainly business owners down the hill who still had time to socialize before the inundation began.  I called her Queen Bee because all the visitors were men, young and old, there were never ladies in this procession.  Her reply to my question of why only men was “Their wives all hate me!”  Anyway I greatly enjoyed the new life I found there; the new friends insisted that I go back after the winter, and I probably shall; who knows?

So I send greetings to all my old friends around the world and a special one to my new ones:

Irina, Laura M, Giancarlo and Maurizio,

Laura Budget and Rita.

Claudio and Antonella.

Azzurra at the Farmacia

Elena at MPS

Lisa and Yusuf, and Mario the dad.

Valentina, Chiara, Marzia and Lita in the Borgo.

David the crazy Yacht Man.