Grant Park was quite spacious. Buckingham Fountain sprayed water high into the air, and children ran around the pool, not caring that their pants were getting wet. Many people lay on the lawn, some sunbathing, some doing somersaults. Under that big tree, someone was playing guitar, the tune languidly playing. In the distance, you could see the rows of large columns of the museum. I sat on a bench and ate an apple, pigeons swarming around waiting for the crumbs to fall. A cool breeze blew by, making me want to stay put.