Walking out of the neighborhood theater, I am greeted by the quiet rush of city life. Rogers Park is nowhere near the lively action of Lincoln Park, but it does have its gifts. One of which I’m particularly fond of: the fact that when I walk on Sheridan Rd., especially at night, I feel that I’m in Europe. Sheridan Rd. is by no means anywhere near the caliber of St. Michel in Paris, France or Las Ramblas in Barcelona, Spain. It’s more residential, but it has the rush of a hidden life. Together, it has the characteristics that makes me feel like I’m in a foreign country.
Perhaps it’s the architecture, the diverse people living in Rogers Park, or maybe the neighborhood stores, and I’m sure the lighting plays a role; whatever it is, I feel like I’m at home. Home in the great city of Chicago and home in some European city where I would like to call home in the near future. I love you Chicago and I miss you Europe.