A Not-So-Quiet Morning in the Public Garden

BOSTON — I woke even earlier than usual each morning during this sojourn to our favorite city in the summer. The time difference likely was the culprit. My body thought it was 6 a.m., my usual time to rise. So I was usually out the door of the Beacon Hill apartment we rented by 5:30. My Beautiful Mystery Companion and daughter Abbie never stirred. They slept under portable fans to drown out the street noise. It felt like sleeping in a wind tunnel but worked. Our heads were at curb-level in this basement abode in a five-story brownstone, secured on AirBnb. It was strange to look out the windows...

Read more...