Captured Moments

Lights behind glass:
Scenes presented, each mine for the taking if I choose to simply
Stop and look for a moment.
Fairy lights strung across a window, reflection of someone's small flight of fancy
The interior of a dining room all wood panels, red walls, and vintage chandelier giving away the age of this particular house.
Apartments only give away a glow of color, or in some cases the soft light of curtained interiors.
Some windows show black.
This person has plants, that one leaves the TV on when no one's in the room.
This room belongs to a child, the one above to adults: a family house.
Basement apartment: order on a small scale, bike propped against a wall, hatstand in the middle.
Small snippets, captured moments, windows meant for viewing: glass, after all, works both ways.

For Boston

Yesterday, I fell in love with a city. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just... Did. Boston felt right, from the moment I arrived at Logan Airport. Flying in from DC, all you get is this expanse of water, then a lighthouse perched on a little rocky island, and then the airport. There's almost no indication of the actual city, so I had no idea what to expect.

We took the Silver Line bus from the airport to South Station, where we hopped on a Red Line T headed out. I basked in the beauty of public transportation. Coming from a city where the Metro is overpriced and not very extensive, the T and the bus system in Boston felt like a savior. The ticket-buying machines were both simple and easy (miracle of miracles!) and the stations felt cozy and, oddly, less hostile than the ones in DC. The Davis Square station both smelled and looked like any station in the New York system, but felt infinitely more friendly. Wonderful.

I'm not entirely sure what got me, but before I knew it, I felt at home. Even though I embodied the lost tourist, iPhone map in hand, I could get around. The whole city (and outlying areas) felt laid back, almost welcoming, friendly. The bits that felt touristy were definitely that, but even more out of the way parts had something to offer. I didn't feel like an out-of-towner- in fact, I was asked on multiple occasions for directions! I guess I look like a college student, so people just assumed I knew where I was going. It was a pretty crazy experience, and I can't wait to go back again. Hopefully, (fingers crossed!) Ill be going to college there next year. I really, really hope so. 

Rain Walking

If you turn up your collar, just so, and scrunch your shoulders up around your neck like closed wings, the rain just... slides. It's possible to stay both warm and relatively dry just by keeping the rain off your neck.  You move through and around the drops, a little hutch of warmth and dryness braving the elements. When your hair is short, like mine, you learn these things quickly. As you walk, the rain floods around your feet, the kind of rain that rushes down so hard it continues right onto the sidewalk. You're wading through minuscule rivers, each one carrying its own load of trash and leaves. Slowly, as you continue on your way, you notice... not so much a smell but a feeling. The world slowly washes itself away, the sound of cars replaced by echoing rain and the underlying dirty scent of streets fading into rainy purity. The city, for a moment, feels clean.