hen I moved to Chicago
over a decade ago, I had
two main reasons:
1.
2.
Was I thrilled when it snowed during my move—in April? Absolutely not. Did it snow again the following April when I moved apartments? Naturally. But I kept telling myself it would all be worth it. And it was.
One thing I quickly learned: Chicagoans don’t take good weather for granted. The moment temperatures become even remotely tolerable, the city collectively spills outdoors. I always know it’s fake spring when I see someone in shorts while it’s still barely 40 degrees. My legs would strongly disagree, but I can’t help but admire the optimism.
W