I have been thinking about visiting the Chicago lakefront – specifically the part of it that I used to work near – for months, until it became years, I think, at least as long as the pandemic. And with the distance from it and everything else that has transpired in the interim, I had grown more anxious about the entire prospect. I kept telling myself that it was simply a matter of familiarity gone stale, that there was likely nothing more to fear than before. It involves getting in the car, driving downtown, parking in the underground garage and walking around with the camera. As the prospect for one good sunny weekend day grew closer, I simply decided to go, envisioning the entire process until it felt safe.

So it was a beautiful day indeed. Bright sunshine, cold, yes, but not too windy. Just to commemorate my emergence from the elevator at the south end of the Art Institute I took the skyline snapshot and then I proceeded along Jackson to Grant Park, where I took a distant photo of Buckingham Fountain.

At that point, I had not yet seen nor heard a Crow. Indeed, I had no idea what to expect after so long. I had a sufficient supply of peanuts in my backpack, a few of which I had already moved to my right pocket when a Black-capped Chickadee greeted me from a hedgerow. I cracked open a peanut and left it for him or her and proceeded to walk through the park toward Lake Shore Drive. Then I heard a Crow call, and spotted it as it flew into the trees.

So there you are, I said. To which the Crow said, So there You are. A few peanuts on the ground later, we were engaged in a sort of mutual admiration conversation.

I want to clarify that I never feed wildlife outside of my backyard – except for the downtown park birds which are quite accustomed to handouts. Indeed had it not been for feeding the Crows I would never have gotten to know them at all. The way to a Crow’s heart…to paraphrase the saying.

By the time I got across Lake Shore Drive there were five Crows following me around. I had a feeling they had been waiting for me. As I had been waiting to see them. Either they had heard my thoughts about coming downtown, resonating as I filled the plastic bag with peanuts before I left, or perhaps they had just been reminiscing about The Peanut Lady during one of their roosts … or most likely, due to the boredom of winter, there was nothing else to attract their attention, like a raptor or spring.

I really didn’t see many more birds besides the Crows. There were gulls out on the ice, and Canada Geese, but the lake was frozen making it useless for diving ducks.

The lakefront trail was populated well enough with runners and walkers. I don’t remember taking the photo below as I usually try to avoid photographing people, but I was amused when I found it later.

There was a lot of ice!

Except for the Ring-billed Gull below, I stuck to photographing the Crows who are natural hams in front of the camera.

When I got to the boathouse, the Crows that had been following me around seemed a bit hesitant. It turned out that this was nearing the end of their territory and they didn’t want to share me with the Crows that were closer to the Columbia Yacht Club. I did briefly encounter a couple of the more northerly Crows on the way back. They appeared to be eating some grapes.

But I really have nothing more to offer than a lot of Crow pictures, to make up for all the Crow Posts that I have not been able to produce over the last two years. Although I now intend to visit the lakefront at least once a month and more than likely I will be visiting with Crows, as the days get longer and warmer there should be more of a variety of species.

I walked back through Maggie Daley and Millennium Park and came to about 20 Crows sitting on top of the modern wing of the Art Institute. They all started cawing loudly. Of course I had to leave them a few peanuts. But it was just really fun to receive such an enthusiastic welcome.

Here are a few more of the Crows in the snow and ice. February’s visit might not look all that different but we shall see.

This part of the lakefront trail is safe, but there are closures farther north due to ice and waves. As it turned out, the most threatened I felt yesterday had nothing to do with my expedition, but instead was when a driver on my left cut right in front of me from behind, with only a few feet to spare, when there was no other traffic – baffling, as if he or she never saw me to begin with – and this was on the way home about half a mile from my house. Luckily I have brakes and a horn which work, the latter of which I rarely use. I think driving has become more precarious altogether in the last couple of years – perhaps due to the Great Collective Distraction: ____________. Don’t ask which one I’m referring to, you can fill in the blank as needed.