A love letter
As the winter months wear us down, it takes the spring to remind us how lucky we are. I'm lucky to be living in one of most beautiful cities on the planet. Boston has so much fantastic history and culture that we pass by everyday without observing. I enjoy traveling so much, probably much more than I should, but I hope I'll always come home here.
I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for the city of my birth, but I knew I wanted to come to Boston well before I actually arrived here. My first trip was probably in 1994 or 1995, for a party. I lost a lot of my life to that "really, really big game", but it got me up here and from the moment I set foot in this city I knew I would eventually call it my home.
Since today was such a beautiful day, I spent the time out walking in the city. I walked from the Charles River, down past Government Center to Faneuil Hall, walked along the Long Warf, back up through Downtown Crossing, and then into the Common and the Public Gardens. It was a great day to just walk.
I did start the day with an ulterior motive. I'm taking the History of Boston class at Harvard Extension this term and I'm looking for a monument to write a paper on, something to catch my eye that looked like it had interesting history or symbolism that I could dig at to find its story. There's plenty here to choose from. But as I walked, I realized just how much I've taken this city for granted. I stopped looking at the history years ago. I pass by the statues, dedications, plaques, graveyards, colonial mile markers, and parks that have existed relatively unchanged for more than 300 years. At some point, I forgot why I fell in love with this city.
Oh, the winters are hell and the drivers suck. The subway is antiquated and overpriced. If the EPA had existed in the 19th century, they would have collectively committed hari-cari over the way this city has bulldozed its hills (only one left!) and filled in its bays and marshes to make room for more people. It's a city that has for many years, not lived up to its own revolutionary character. She's been surpassed by newer, younger cities: New York, LA, Chicago, Phoenix, Dallas, San Francisco...
Boston was the home of Ralph Waldo Emerson, John Adams, Anne Hutchinson, Benjamin Franklin, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Edgar Allen Poe.
It's also my home, and I love it.
I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for the city of my birth, but I knew I wanted to come to Boston well before I actually arrived here. My first trip was probably in 1994 or 1995, for a party. I lost a lot of my life to that "really, really big game", but it got me up here and from the moment I set foot in this city I knew I would eventually call it my home.
Since today was such a beautiful day, I spent the time out walking in the city. I walked from the Charles River, down past Government Center to Faneuil Hall, walked along the Long Warf, back up through Downtown Crossing, and then into the Common and the Public Gardens. It was a great day to just walk.
I did start the day with an ulterior motive. I'm taking the History of Boston class at Harvard Extension this term and I'm looking for a monument to write a paper on, something to catch my eye that looked like it had interesting history or symbolism that I could dig at to find its story. There's plenty here to choose from. But as I walked, I realized just how much I've taken this city for granted. I stopped looking at the history years ago. I pass by the statues, dedications, plaques, graveyards, colonial mile markers, and parks that have existed relatively unchanged for more than 300 years. At some point, I forgot why I fell in love with this city.
Oh, the winters are hell and the drivers suck. The subway is antiquated and overpriced. If the EPA had existed in the 19th century, they would have collectively committed hari-cari over the way this city has bulldozed its hills (only one left!) and filled in its bays and marshes to make room for more people. It's a city that has for many years, not lived up to its own revolutionary character. She's been surpassed by newer, younger cities: New York, LA, Chicago, Phoenix, Dallas, San Francisco...
Boston was the home of Ralph Waldo Emerson, John Adams, Anne Hutchinson, Benjamin Franklin, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Edgar Allen Poe.
It's also my home, and I love it.