Which is why I'm posting photos of Chicago from last fall, where it was bright, sunny and mostly warm. Bike rack glinting gloriously in the sun, looking absolutely at home contrasting with the bright blue of the sky. Holding its own against the tall glassy structures whose verticality only complements its horizontal nature, yet accompanying the never-ending stretches of asphalt and reflecting light back to its source, elongating the day into dusk.
I admit, I was wondering what this bike rack was doing here, lining the streets as naturally as the trees that populate downtown Chicago. Turns out, there was a race the next day, and this helped the runners stay on course. I've run a few races, and I don't remember whether the bike rack was there to help guide my way. Sad. I like to think they were there, keeping silent, yet strong, company.
Waxing poetic about bike rack: THREE bicycles out of four. Keats I'm not.
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