This morning, I walked to the church in a little bit of rain. Chicago is delivering up an autumn that is more vibrant and alive than any of the recent past in NYC.
The yellow leaves are turning a burnt russet rather than brown, the ivy is turning scarlet, maroon and golden. The trees lining the street are turning into a pleasant kaleidoscope of autumn.
A man walks underneath them on the way back from Mass. He opens up his arms to receive the leaves, the drops of water falling off them, the sky.