Chicago: A Winters Day (Click picture for larger view)
People Who MustChicago in winter with snow showers and fog. Looking down from a room on the 24th floor, the cars like matchbook toys and the frozen pedestrians scurry along like little ants, braced against the ever present wind. I can see them, looking down from the window of my warm room; but they can't see me. I am just a speck behind a darkened glass and it is too cold; too cold for them to dare look up.
I painted on the roof of a skyscraper.
I painted a long while and called it a day's work.
The people on a corner swarmed and the traffic cop's whistle never let up all afternoon.
They were the same as bugs, many bugs on their way -
Those people on the go or at a standstill;
And the traffic cop a spot of blue, a splinter of brass,
Where the black tides ran around him
And he kept the street. I painted a long while
And called it a day's work.
~ Carl Sandburg
Submission for Thursday Challenge topic "high". (end of post)