From these ghosts of my Boston past, we fast-forward to a much happier and more tranquil Boston present, as Kira and I had a fall-entry rendezvous in our favorite city last weekend. Friday’s weather was perfect for the penultimate day of summer, so we did a little strolling to make the most of it before the rain arrived. The typical accoutrements of fall were all around – unpins lines the storefronts, gourds spilled out from straw baskets and bales of hay, and corn stalks were tied up at various entrances, like soldiers of warning or protection; fall is cagey that way, playing both sides in infuriating fashion.
We opted for a casual dinner nearby, at House of Siam, and returned to the condo just as summer began its teary goodbye. By the time we awoke the next day, there was the usual tapping on the air conditioner signaling that the rain had begun. It would last the entire day, but for this weekend I didn’t mind it; it felt like a fitting finale to summer’s last day. We slept in a bit – no one wants to rush a rainy weekend morning – and when we at last ventured forth for a few errands, we decided it was late enough for an early lunch, and this season’s first bowl of pho at Pho Pasteur.
Meandering through Chinatown beneath umbrellas, and battling wind and rain through downtown, we picked up our necessities (a light bulb, a black shirt, some Vetiver Sage soap) and hurried along to have an early siesta.
Back in the condo, we lit candles, turned on a few lamps, and luxuriated in the warm illumination they afforded – such a simple but effective mood-lifter: light on a dim day. A quick cat nap later, it was time for dinner plans, and a cologne selection for a early night out. Rarely do I mix and match fragrances, but Tom Ford’s Private Blends lend themselves to various indulgent combinations, some more combustible than others. On this almost-fall rainy evening, I chose a bit of ‘Bois Marocain‘ and a sliver of ‘Arabian Wood‘.
As the day darkened further, we decided to stay again in the South End, opting for a spicy dinner of Indian food at Mela – a spot that I hadn’t been to in years. My mind went back to a dinner I had with Alissa and her mother way back when it was her favorite restaurant, Geoffrey’s. Boston has more ghosts now than it did when I was young, but they are friendly. Mela was a lovely revelation, and I made a note to bring Andy here the next time we were in town.
When dinner was done, we took our time walking back. The rain had mostly stopped. Summer had finished its crying fit, but as we neared the fountain at Braddock Park, it started up again, pelting us and suddenly coming down harder. It was suddenly impossible to tell where the fountain started and the water ended – we were all a part of the fountain now, all a part of the water, and there was something comforting in the way nature would level the day whenever she felt like it.
Back inside, I gave Kira an early birthday present as I checked on whether my phone’s hotspot would fuel a website update to take place at, or as near as I could muster wakefulness to, midnight. It worked – and it turns out all this time I could have been blogging in Boston. Further proof I should just retire at Walden Pond and call an end to this technological nightmare in which we are so messily ensconced.
Boston closed its arms around us on this final day of summer, and this blog went into its current dark mode, as you’ve seen over the last few days of posts. I wasn’t sad about it. Sometimes you need the fall to cool the riotous heart of summer. Kira and I made date plans for our Friendsgiving weekend and this year’s holiday stroll. Will they happen? No one can say. I am weakly hopeful, but a bit too preoccupied with other issues at the moment to dwell much on it.
There are still colorful fall days to be found in Boston, and I hope to make it back before November. Here we are already knocking on October’s door, so that may not quite happen. We’ll see how long the leaves stay…
