Good morning from Boston.
My 30th-floor room in the Back Bay looks out on a bit of the Charles River; the overgrowth of the fens; a lot of red brick and flaming fall leaves; six or seven typical New England church steeples and the big clunky Christian Science mother church; one of the colleges; and in it all, two tiny walkers along Huntington Avenue, passing in opposite directions.
The Peet’s French Roast is brewing in the bathroom, and all in all it’s a lovely November morning—except that I will have to spend the day indoors, setting up books for an exhibit and then selling them (or not).
Coming in last night: a blood red line of sunset between two vast darks; a little crescent moon observing from the upper, somewhat below us on the plane.
image: Acorn Street, Beacon Hill, Boston, Massachusetts. These houses were built in the late 1820s by Cornelius Coolidge. July 2005.
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