It was windy today along the Charles. It was also wonderfully warm– the first day I’ve lived in this fair city where the temperature exceeded 50 degrees. It was almost too much to bear. After popping out of bed and flinging my windows open, I threw on a shirt and some jeans and charged out the door into the morning. (It’s amazing how quickly the body acclimates to a climate. Fifty-eight degrees with 5mph winds in Seattle, and I’m reaching for my jacket. Here, I was wishing I’d remembered to bring shorts.)
The walk down Mass. Ave. was a whirl of contradictory stimuli: the sun beat down on the cigarettes embedded in the soot-covered snow lining the sidewalks; a small armada of sailboats raced in circles on the completely unswimmable river; beautiful girls strolled impassively down the street as middle-aged men hollered at them from their cars, blaring the new U2 album through the windows.
In the face of all this, I walked the entire day through, wending my way down from Cambridge, through the Back Bay and into China Town, taking in the architecture and touristas through half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile plastered to my face. I looked like I was stoned; I felt like I’d just gotten laid.
I’ve got a hell of a lot more to say about this city, Seattle’s creepy uncle, but there are only a few hours of daylight left, so I’ll leave it there.