As I walked around East Avondale today, also named the Avondale Triangle I noticed how our neighborhood has changed once again. At first vibrant and green, then warm and colorful, now the leaves curl and crisp in the cold autumn air on the ground and only a handful cling to each branch as the wind sits still. The chilled blue sky takes over every upward gaze.

So what does this late Autumn have to offer us that we never noticed before?

I now see once frolicking, harvesting, and thin squirrels nesting their now thick winterized bodies in balls of specifically chosen leaves and twigs. Each den wedged high in the trees where the medium and small branches part ways. I now see plump little birds, feathers fluffed, flitting about gathering seeds from winter bird feeders, occasionally warming their bodies in the morning sun. Their nests even hard to find. I now see frosted edges to leaves in the early morning dawn as if tiny fingers etched silver reliefs a thousand times over.  I now see glistening ice ready to melt as the fleeting hours of warm sunlight glows all around. Then they quickly harden as the afternoon chill begins to set in the air. I now see midday shadows draw beautifully replicas of the barren trees near by. Quickly as these intricate designers are drawn they are abruptly hidden by the dusk and covered in darkness as the evening pulls it blanket over Chicago.

What has late autumn revealed to you?