Drizzle, gray -- stereotypical London weather in Chicago -- blah, blah, blah. But I went for a walk. I love walking -- you have time to see during a walk. I passed one of my favorite, Chicago homes (see photo). I love the door (second photo).
And spring is coming! Outside the zoo, I heard a wren singing -- a liquid warble that flowed up and down the scale. And when I dipped into the zoo, I saw that the mating rituals had begun: The male flamingos stretching their necks and sticking their black beaks high into the air (the females seemed mostly uninterested), and the black and white male mergansers (a small duck) circled the brown females in a sort of frenzy. I felt sorry for a small, lone bufflehead (another small duck) with no mate in sight. The male cardinals were so, so red in the gray light, and the female's peach beaks seemed almost indecent. Why is it easier to see color on gray days?
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