Though Spring had arrived, the more pronounced changes of the season had not yet asserted themselves. The preceding winter had been a mild affair, a liminal season that never really reached its fullest, snowy and windy potential. It was a harbinger of the heat-wave we had, and though temperatures have grown decidedly temperate, I still believe that our mild winter was the surest sign that we were in for a string of hot days. Even though winter was mild enough to provide some warning to me, I didn’t think that we’d actually have record-breaking heat. We did, and now I’m hoping for a normal winter, eventually giving way to a normal summer, in whatever subjective way I might mean that. Though Spring had arrived, the more pronounced changes of the season had not yet asserted themselves. I’d only just started my new job as a market researcher, but I still thought (and felt) like a dental-equipment-mover. I cannot say that I miss my old job, but I do miss my old schedule. I miss wandering around on weekends taking pictures of things, finding new things to enjoy, or re-discovering music and books. Spring had not yet begun to assert itself when this photo was taken, but the death of Winter was enough to stir Corey with enough of an urge to go out and photograph things…somewhere. In the case of this particular photograph, somewhere happened to be Wrigleyville. I am no stranger to Wrigleyville. It has appeared in my gallery a few times. It will appear (in fragments) again, I’m sure. This particular fragment of Wrigleyville is one that has always drawn my attention, and because it stayed on my camera for so long, it survived the accidental purge of countless files on my laptop during it’s catastrophic crash. I’m glad it survived. I’m glad that I can post it now…and I only wish that I remembered all of what I wanted to say about it. All I can say, now, is that it is one of those shots inspired by a fellow Renderosity artist. In this particular case, Andrea/durleybeachbum. This is a cousin to the padlocks she has photographed from the other side of that big, salty body of water separating the New World from The Old World. What I find amusing about this lock is its apparent purpose. It didn’t lock anything. It didn’t protect anything. It served—if anything—as a link in a chain and the chain itself was little more than a half-hearted demarcation of Chicago Transit Authority property. This lock, and the chain of which it was a part, was the most casual warning to pedestrians that they weren’t really allowed onto CTA property. I suspect that this warning was perfunctory, symbolic, the barest of gestures, intended to fulfill a requirement. No one took the warning to heart, if the broken beer bottles were any indication. But it was there, nonetheless, a drooping chain with a lock serving as an important link. An Adlake lock, nonetheless. The name means nothing to me, but I do like the way it sticks out, revealing a rather nice play of light and shadow. As Andrea has posted quite a number of locks in the past, and is likely to in the future, this image is dedicated to her. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.