I'm not complaining about nighttime
Amid all the superfluous shenanigans in attendance on just about everyone's lives, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rushthatspeaks brought me as his plus-one on a cruise of the Charles River and we saw sculls and sailboats and wingsurfers and skies doing their best N. C. Wyeth and it did not rain as predicted until we were stepping off the boat.
I photographed the wingsurfer with his permission and the skyline decided to compete for photogeny.
The clouds drained eventually to the submerged blue of the twilight scales of the river, but put up a good imitation of a matte painting in the meantime.
I did not realize the cruise would turn around in the basin of North Point Park, passing twice underneath the Lechmere Viaduct and the Craigie Bridge through the lock of the original Charles River Dam where tugboats in my childhood were tied up beside the Museum of Science. I had never been in one of the canals left to this city, whose bridges and boardwalks I have photographed for years. It made me even happier than the lobster rolls.
I have not yet granted my biometrics to Facebook. Chasing down doctors has proved successful only in the most frustrating of ways. I am not doing well with my body and everyone in my personal life needs two or three breaks and a small fortune stat. I loved being on the water of this tide-blocked river where I was not taught to sail. It felt like being alive.
rushthatspeaks brought me as his plus-one on a cruise of the Charles River and we saw sculls and sailboats and wingsurfers and skies doing their best N. C. Wyeth and it did not rain as predicted until we were stepping off the boat.
I photographed the wingsurfer with his permission and the skyline decided to compete for photogeny.
The clouds drained eventually to the submerged blue of the twilight scales of the river, but put up a good imitation of a matte painting in the meantime.
I did not realize the cruise would turn around in the basin of North Point Park, passing twice underneath the Lechmere Viaduct and the Craigie Bridge through the lock of the original Charles River Dam where tugboats in my childhood were tied up beside the Museum of Science. I had never been in one of the canals left to this city, whose bridges and boardwalks I have photographed for years. It made me even happier than the lobster rolls.
I have not yet granted my biometrics to Facebook. Chasing down doctors has proved successful only in the most frustrating of ways. I am not doing well with my body and everyone in my personal life needs two or three breaks and a small fortune stat. I loved being on the water of this tide-blocked river where I was not taught to sail. It felt like being alive.