My days as the writer-in-residence at the Hemingway House in Oak Park are drawing to a close, and so I decided to document my drive there. I have come to cherish my way to work as I came to think of it, driving through the northwestern neighborhoods of Chicago after dropping my sons off at their school on the far north side of the city. It was a part of Chicago I had not frequented before, nor am I likely to drive through there much once I’m not taking that route out to Oak Park anymore.

For some reason I loved passing this bungalow on a congested part of Cicero Avenue, perhaps because it is so quintessentially Chicago, typical for the working class bungalow belt, a single family home squeezed onto a tiny lot, relentless traffic kept at bay by a high fence, and then those awnings against the sun.

Oh so Chicago as well – carefully painted patterns on an embankment wall and underpasses that lead to crooked intersections.

Hotels, businesses, happenings.
One of those glorious facades that probably harbors an equally ornate interior
I couldn’t help but stop at the Perkolator one rainy day – great coffee in an eclectic coffee shop of mismatched armchairs, wood paneled ceiling and great old shop windows.
This is the Mars Chocolate Factory on Oak Park Avenue, always immaculate
 
And this is the driveway of the Hemingway House, looking out at the church portal across the street, and looking into the property with the porch on the right.