A warm night in April. All along the lakefront, from 57th Streetto Montrose Harbor and points beyond, the lights of lanterns andgrills dot the shoreline. On Achsah Bond Drive leading out to thePlanetarium, not one parking space is available at 11 o'clock - atime when the mythological urbanite is said to be behinddouble-locked doors inside a home or apartment.
The smelt are running. And groups of families, older couplesand teenage boys are enjoying the night, perhaps even netting fishfor the barbecue. A vendor walks among them selling balloons.Across Monroe Harbor and beyond Grant Park, the downtown skylineerupts in sparkling shapes, a perfect backdrop for the quiet drama ofcouples strolling around Buckingham Fountain.
For a time, we set aside thoughts of more troubled Chicagostreets and byways. For this, too, is the real Chicago. This isspring. And the smelt are running.

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