This summer, we have spent many weekend nights (and some weeknights, too) on the roof deck of our building. The best time of day is the transition of sunset to darkness. The colors change, golden-orange, red, purple-blue, then dark. The city’s skyline comes to life, sparkling in the night sky. On some nights, Navy Pier fireworks peek over the tops of buildings and in between the cracks of skyscrapers.
The meals are not necessarily memorable. There’s grilled food, maybe burgers or shish-kebabs, some wine. An aluminum packet filled with asparagus. Some strips of zucchini. Slices of onion.
What I love is the wine-induced conversation, the laughter, the distracted stares toward the skyline. Seeing planes headed for O’Hare and Midway. The whining of my dog as she hears fireworks in the neighborhood. I am going to spend weekends up there until summer wheezes it’s last gasp, until fall brings cool weather, sweaters and s’mores.
I will be dreaming of rooftop nights this winter.