You find a wave and try to hold on for as long as you can
I had a terrible time getting to my appointment this afternoon because the MBTA had fallen over with its feet stiffly out sideways and the traffic patterns in the city had followed suit, but ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch met me afterward at the Boston Public Market; I got my traditional bagel and he had a knish and a croissant and then we walked for about two hours straight—North End, Greenway, Fort Point Channel, Cabot Yard. I took a lot of pictures of brick and westering sun. Also of neon signs and water. Please enjoy a selection below.
Noyes Place is a short private street in the North End where I make a point of kissing my husband when I see the sign with his name on it. I'm standing on Salem Street, which in its Jewish heyday of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was home to something like five separate synagogues, none of which now remain. I liked the fire escapes.
I have been fond of the carousel on the Rose Kennedy Greenway since it was installed in 2013 because all of its animals are things like lobsters, harbor seals, peregrine falcons, blue whales, skunks, and oarfish. The fox is not especially coastal, but it is personable. For you,yhlee. We did not ride the carousel this time, but we watched some kids take a turn on it, to the melodic, traditional strains of the Dropkick Murphys' "I'm Shipping Up to Boston."
The Greenway is currently hosting an installation of local landmark neon signs. I don't think I ever ate at the European Restaurant in the North End, butspatch's high school Russian class took exchange students there in the '90's: "Solid parmigiana."
The same state of affairs prevails with State Line Potato Chips. My elementary school class never toured their factory in Wilbraham and got a free bag of chips at the end. I'm depraved on account of I'm deprived.
Neither of us ever visited Bill's Radio and TV, late of Roxbury, but their sign dates from 1925 and I respect that.
The harbor seen from Central Wharf, behind the New England Aquarium. The light was starting to fade, but the masts caught it. It smelled salt and safe.
On Atlantic Avenue, we walked past a pop-up beer garden with a bacon truck parked nearby. My photo of it did not come out especially well, but you may rest assured that everyone was doing brisk business. Here instead is the permanently parked-open center span of the hundred-and-ten-year-old Northern Avenue Bridge, as seen from the much less interesting, albeit more structurally sound Evelyn Moakley Bridge.
Bricks on Sleeper Street, behind the Boston Children's Museum. On the other side of the street, five-pointed iron staples at irregular intervals in the exterior wall looked like starfish, clustering and colonizing the old warehouse brick.
I have no idea where this photo was taken. Somewhere between Sleeper Street and Summer Street. I liked the windows full of sky.
Looking back toward the Congress Street Bridge from a nameless portion of the harborwalk half under a building. The Boston Tea Party Museum is just visible on the far side of the span, the small spiny masts of the replica Eleanor or Beaver.
When I looked down, there was a bracelet of bladderwrack, surfacing in the clouded green water.
GE is building its new headquarters in Necco Court, in the turn-of-the-century factories that gave us Necco wafers and Clark bars. The great ghost sign of the New England Confectionary Company has been sandblasted off the back of the building, which now looks raw and pink and a little indecent. I did not take a picture. I photographed the crane instead, because it is beautiful, and I hope they are haunted forever by the smell of hot sugar.
Coming up on Gillette's headquarters, looking back toward Fort Point. The vertical went screwy, but the light stayed good.
New construction near the Broadway T stop. I have no idea what it is, but it took the sunset nicely.
Cabot Yard from Traveler Street. The rolling stock of the Red Line. The illusion of being tucked at the corners into an old-fashioned photo album is produced by shooting through chain-link.
Catenaries! Taken at an angle because the portion of the bridge directly overlooking the live wires is so heavily fenced in that it is not possible to get even a camera's-eye view between the links, not like I was planning to drop either myself or it onto them.
Jet contrail between two overpasses of I-93. We walked around for a little at the very southern end of Fort Point Channel—it is marked on maps as Bass River—carefully avoiding the Canada geese keeping aggressively alert watch over their fuzzy, stumbling half-dozen goslings.
Cabot Yard from West 4th Street, as we returned. We got on the Red Line at Broadway and came home.
This interview with Stephanie Beatriz really makes me want to catch up on the latest season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. This watch makes me think someone once read a book by Madeleine L'Engle and missed the point.
I must attempt to sleep; tomorrow there may be construction and I definitely travel.
spatch met me afterward at the Boston Public Market; I got my traditional bagel and he had a knish and a croissant and then we walked for about two hours straight—North End, Greenway, Fort Point Channel, Cabot Yard. I took a lot of pictures of brick and westering sun. Also of neon signs and water. Please enjoy a selection below.
Noyes Place is a short private street in the North End where I make a point of kissing my husband when I see the sign with his name on it. I'm standing on Salem Street, which in its Jewish heyday of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was home to something like five separate synagogues, none of which now remain. I liked the fire escapes.
I have been fond of the carousel on the Rose Kennedy Greenway since it was installed in 2013 because all of its animals are things like lobsters, harbor seals, peregrine falcons, blue whales, skunks, and oarfish. The fox is not especially coastal, but it is personable. For you,
yhlee. We did not ride the carousel this time, but we watched some kids take a turn on it, to the melodic, traditional strains of the Dropkick Murphys' "I'm Shipping Up to Boston."
The Greenway is currently hosting an installation of local landmark neon signs. I don't think I ever ate at the European Restaurant in the North End, but
spatch's high school Russian class took exchange students there in the '90's: "Solid parmigiana."
The same state of affairs prevails with State Line Potato Chips. My elementary school class never toured their factory in Wilbraham and got a free bag of chips at the end. I'm depraved on account of I'm deprived.
Neither of us ever visited Bill's Radio and TV, late of Roxbury, but their sign dates from 1925 and I respect that.
The harbor seen from Central Wharf, behind the New England Aquarium. The light was starting to fade, but the masts caught it. It smelled salt and safe.
On Atlantic Avenue, we walked past a pop-up beer garden with a bacon truck parked nearby. My photo of it did not come out especially well, but you may rest assured that everyone was doing brisk business. Here instead is the permanently parked-open center span of the hundred-and-ten-year-old Northern Avenue Bridge, as seen from the much less interesting, albeit more structurally sound Evelyn Moakley Bridge.
Bricks on Sleeper Street, behind the Boston Children's Museum. On the other side of the street, five-pointed iron staples at irregular intervals in the exterior wall looked like starfish, clustering and colonizing the old warehouse brick.
I have no idea where this photo was taken. Somewhere between Sleeper Street and Summer Street. I liked the windows full of sky.
Looking back toward the Congress Street Bridge from a nameless portion of the harborwalk half under a building. The Boston Tea Party Museum is just visible on the far side of the span, the small spiny masts of the replica Eleanor or Beaver.
When I looked down, there was a bracelet of bladderwrack, surfacing in the clouded green water.
GE is building its new headquarters in Necco Court, in the turn-of-the-century factories that gave us Necco wafers and Clark bars. The great ghost sign of the New England Confectionary Company has been sandblasted off the back of the building, which now looks raw and pink and a little indecent. I did not take a picture. I photographed the crane instead, because it is beautiful, and I hope they are haunted forever by the smell of hot sugar.
Coming up on Gillette's headquarters, looking back toward Fort Point. The vertical went screwy, but the light stayed good.
New construction near the Broadway T stop. I have no idea what it is, but it took the sunset nicely.
Cabot Yard from Traveler Street. The rolling stock of the Red Line. The illusion of being tucked at the corners into an old-fashioned photo album is produced by shooting through chain-link.
Catenaries! Taken at an angle because the portion of the bridge directly overlooking the live wires is so heavily fenced in that it is not possible to get even a camera's-eye view between the links, not like I was planning to drop either myself or it onto them.
Jet contrail between two overpasses of I-93. We walked around for a little at the very southern end of Fort Point Channel—it is marked on maps as Bass River—carefully avoiding the Canada geese keeping aggressively alert watch over their fuzzy, stumbling half-dozen goslings.
Cabot Yard from West 4th Street, as we returned. We got on the Red Line at Broadway and came home.
This interview with Stephanie Beatriz really makes me want to catch up on the latest season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. This watch makes me think someone once read a book by Madeleine L'Engle and missed the point.
I must attempt to sleep; tomorrow there may be construction and I definitely travel.