We have bees at work! at work.
Coexisting with bees in cities is easy and natural. After all, honey bees are just one of a number of pollinators like butterflies, bumble bees, and wild bees with whom we already share our urban spaces.
We have bees at work! at work.
Coexisting with bees in cities is easy and natural. After all, honey bees are just one of a number of pollinators like butterflies, bumble bees, and wild bees with whom we already share our urban spaces.
I have passed by and seen but not seen this sign thousands of times from the bus. Finally I noticed the exchange telephone number: FA4-4200.
All this time I never noticed the florist is gone, which is obvious. They moved in 2001.
Florist shop replanted
Art Miller’s Florist Shop, 1551 E. Hyde Park Blvd., a 50-year-plus tradition in Hyde Park, is budding all over with both new owners and a new location.
Don Eskra and Linda Wiening, who bought Miller’s last year, have swapped the shop’s beleagured location beneath the overpass on Hyde Park Boulevard for 1521 East 55th Street, a move that was not without its trials.
“Our phones were all messed up for about a week, and people thought that Art Miller’s had gone out of business,” Wiening said.
Eskra had previouslv owned a group of flower shops in Bridgeport that he sold for Art Miller’s.
Hyde Park Herald, June 13, 2001
7/20/2023 update: Someone in the Hyde Park group posted “Chicago Telephone Exchange Names.” FA was Fairfax.
After months of abnormally dry to severe drought conditions, Chicago had a near record “rainfall event” the weekend of July 1–2, especially on Sunday.
To me, it seemed like a normal rain, but I don’t have a personal basement to worry about. I gave up any thought of outdoor activities and stuck to reading, TV, etc. I figured I’d be grateful if this rain, plus a few others that preceded it, would put a dent in the severe drought conditions.
As of July 11, Chicago was still abnormally dry, but look at the difference.
June 10, 2023:
Same area, July 9, 2023, a little less than a month later:
When I noticed the orange light on my weather radio flashing the evening of July 12, I was hoping for beach hazards or at worst a flash flood watch, but, no, it was a tornado watch. As the sky got darker, it flipped to the red light — tornado warning. Not long after that, the sirens started — an eerie sound in the eerie premature twilight.
Over the next hour or so I saw several reports of tornadoes, starting with Summit in the southwest suburbs. Then it seemed like they were everywhere — southwest, west, north.
The sky brightened for a moment, then darkened, then brightened again just as another brief deluge descended. I looked — yes, there was a rainbow (and a very faint second mirror image rainbow). It faded, then reappeared, or maybe it was a second one in a similar spot. The second, with a faint mirror image like the first, was the full arch, which I couldn’t capture from my window.
It faded as blue sky appeared to the east, then pink from the setting sun tinged the clouds that had piled up.