An unsettled sight
Friday evening, a sight took my breath away and left me unsettled in the best possible way.
I heard a woman gasp, and I looked up to see what she was looking at. Breaking through the clouds, the sunset hit the side of Boston’s Custom House (aka the Clock Tower), just as I walked from Haymarket toward the Greenway on Hanover Street.
One side of the building shone an improbable gold on a cloudy day; it was absolutely gorgeous. Others saw the woman and me staring, and looked up as well, one man crossing the street (somewhat foolishly) to see what the fuss was about. I thanked the woman for noticing.
My old apartment had a stellar view of Boston’s skyline. For the twelve years I lived there, I would stand at the bay windows, the Clock Tower and the Hancock my primary focal points. I loved the Clock Tower. It would emerge from fog after a storm; shine brightly in the sun; at night, the clock’s lit up face would punctuate the night.
In a way, I thought of it as mine. My building. My view. Leaving it was one of the hardest things about moving.
I can still see the Hancock from the top of my street, and sometimes catch the sun setting on its pale blue glass. It’s rare that I see the Clock Tower anymore. I’ve missed it.
It’s no longer mine
Friday, it treated me to not one, but two different perspectives of it. Further down, I stopped to sit and appreciate the last of the sunset. I looked up and saw the Clock Tower and the Grain Exchange framed by the trees as the lights came on the Greenway.
It’s a beautiful building, but no longer mine, as my hometown is no longer home. And because of that, I can see it anew. What was once familiar can take my breath away.
Familiar paths becoming unsettled
Back home again, I walked my paths here, observing the season change. Leaves on the ground after the rain, the mornings cool.
Last week unsettled me. Something has shifted, and my mind needs to catch up to where I am. Saturday evening Ollie decided that it was time for a walk. We crossed the street to avoid a big dog ahead. My fellow dog person said hello, and I looked up to see an unexpected rainbow emerging from the darkened, but not rainy sky.
My neighbor looked up to see what made me stop and gasp. I pointed up.