Some of our Boston celebrations are just around the corner, and the city is in the midst of unfurling its spring flower buds with glorious abandon. The city is especially magical at this time of the year, when you happen to step beneath a blossoming apple tree and inhale its perfume, or when the morning dew rolls off the puckered pout of a Narcissus cup. Braddock Park bursts with its own charm as pockets of crocus scream to be noticed amid a sea of ivy leaves. The fountain might already be running by the time of this post, and if it’s not it should start any day now – the steady gurgling a comfort when the front windows are open to the night air. I could spend an hour sitting at the table, looking out over the street and watching the dog-walkers and kids ambling by.
On nice evenings I’ve been known to bring a cocktail outside and settle onto the top of the steps, extending the comforts of home right up against the street and the friendly neighbors. If I have friends coming over I’ll often wait for them there too – that way I get to see them as soon as possible and not waste one moment out of their presence. Nothing makes me happier than seeing Kira or JoAnn making their way along the Southwest Corridor Park to start a Boston adventure, or waiting for Andy to return from the car with a last piece of luggage for an anniversary weekend. It’s all happening…
