Sea whispered to me when I arrived in Boston. She peaked around corners, she skulked in the shadows, she stepped alongside me in the sun. Everywhere I walked, I felt she was there. She tickled my nose with her salty seduction, teasing and tempting with her mineral-laden scent. On certain summer days, that’s what Sea did best, and as I began my perambulation of Boston, she was in the air.
The weekend would be informed by Sea, who had a strong backing wind, one that brought her all the way to Braddock Park and the South End, and one that would follow in the misty air as I made my way to Cape Cod the next day. First, though, a few glimpses of the flowers that were in striking form along the streets of Boston.
Roses tumbled out of every little square of dirt – full, multi-branched mini-bouquets of roses, arching and weighing down their thorny boughs, reaching out to entice all passers-by with their prettiness and perfume. It was a beautiful afternoon, but I could still sense Sea, could feel her in the humid, murky descent of evening. I made my way through the cobblestone streets of the oldest parts of the city. Some of the steps were haunted, by Sea and by History. Her story too. I was scoping out scenes for the upcoming BroSox Adventure with Skip, and found some new possibilities in the night. It will be a summer weekend when we go, but the autumn may beckon a bit, hinting of mystery and impending coziness. August plays out that way. But I’m getting ahead of myself, and early summer is not the time to do that.
I did not have the option of making it a late night, having to get up at dawn to beat the traffic over the bridge to Cape Cod. Besides, when Sea is in the air, memories and spirits move easier among worlds, especially at night. It’s better to hide in slumber at such times. I hurried home to the condo, ran up the steps, and locked the door behind me.
