I only spent the first couple days of this 10th week of isolation up north, but even in this short period of time, I still managed to take a whole new batch of photos. As I alluded to in the previous post, striving to completely capture beauty may prove impossible, but it’s an attempt that never ends. And I hope, for me, that it’s a pursuit I never abandon. Isn’t that the ideal- to always remain curious and to forever maintain a desire to engage in some way with the world?
Anyways, the majority of this week was spent back in Chicago, which, after almost 7 years (is that right??) of living here full time, driving back into the city feels like coming home. The past few days have provided the most consistently warm weather of the year, even bordering on hot. We’ve had the kind of days that make Chicagoans say “this is what makes the winters worth it” - blue skies and beaming sun (brief thunderstorm notwithstanding). Sitting in my backyard, I heard speakers blasting music, smelled grills being busted out for the first time, and watched the sparks and flares of alleyway fireworks displays. It all feels so normal- these hallmarks of a typical summer day- yet Illinois is still shut down (although not for much longer…) and the figures of how many people have died from the virus are staggering. Summertime feels full of life and promise, the celebration for sticking through winter, which is difficult to parse when faced with the tragedy of the past few months and the need to step cautiously into a still uncertain future. It’s hard to acknowledge that this summer will be different and will, most likely, require sacrifices and discomforts, particularly as the city slowly emerges from sheltering in place.
Yet, while weeding the backyard, my next door neighbor noticed me from between the panels of the fence dividing our yards and struck up a conversation about gardening. We spoke, craning our heads for the best view through the gaps in the fence, barely able to see each other, separated, but engaged. Meeting my neighbor for the first time in this way and amidst this time of isolation, feels like a hopeful sign. Later, from up in my back porch, I could hear her singing aloud as she watered her plants, jumping between songs in Spanish and Whitney Houston ballads. Her voice wasn’t the best, but she sang with confidence, simply enjoying the music. Summer will certainly look different this year, but I’m reminded that there will always be ways to make the most of this season.
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I also wanted to mention the last few photos of this week’s collection. I gathered violets from my backyard and made a simple syrup with them. The violets are soaked in water for 24 hours, which turns the water blue. The violet infused water is mixed with sugar to create the syrup, at which point it is still blue. Following a recipe note, I added a bit of lemon juice, the acidity of which turns the mixture purple. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been in chemistry class for years, but watching the color change amazed me! I’m looking forward to using the syrup- hopefully in recipes that allow the color to shine through!