Our third day in Boston – the last full day we would have on this trip – blossomed in sunny fashion, and we wisely saved our walk through the Boston Public Garden for this moment. Before that, however, we slept in, and looked out sleepily at the fountain in the middle of Braddock Park. Back in 1995 when my parents purchased the condo, the fountain wasn’t even working, but a few years later the neighbors got it functional again, and it is a happy bellwether for better weather. It now trickles its soothing sound from spring until late fall, taking a winter slumber only to return when the sun is high and warm.
On this morning, we made our way to the Public Garden, to the place where we made our wedding vows eleven years ago. It was on a day quite similar to today – bright and sunny and just warm enough to not merit a jacket.
Night and day, you are the one
Only you beneath the moon, under the sun
Whether near to me or far
It’s no matter darling, where you are
I think of you night and day
Day and night, why is it so
That this longing for you follows wherever I go
In the roaring traffic’s boom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you
Night and day
This wedding cake shrub is a favorite – as much for its name as its perfectly timed blooming period. It was there on our wedding day too, and we posed in front of it with our gathered friends and family. Today it brought back those memories, and at such moments we were reminded of how wonderful the world and its inhabitants can be.
Perched high in the air, fruit tree blossoms dangled like cream-colored bells, ringing silently in the slightest breeze. The tulips were just slightly past their prime, but a few were hanging on to give us a show.
In a more secluded corner of the Garden, a coral-colored quince bloomed in its shady nook, near an angelic fountain that lended more flowing water to the calm at hand.
There is magic to be found at all times of the year in the Public Garden, but we are partial to spring, and this spell of May in particular.
While the city thrashes about trying to drag its ponderous history into a new world, this little refuge of beauty and simplicity, majesty and wonder, retains its enchanting essence.
At the entrance to the Garden, which was now also our exit, a few bleeding hearts hung their exquisite blooms as if bidding us adieu until the next time.
Reluctantly departing such a pretty scene, we ambled back to the condo, and on the way we watched this little bunny scurry into the front garden square of our building. There are always signs that we are right where we are supposed to be, and this rabbit was a symbol we’d see from time to time on our visits. I rarely saw it when I was in Boston alone, but when Andy’s been here it always makes an appearance.
It was almost time for one more dinner in Boston…
