April in Boston

Saturday, April 5, 2014

A Bostonian April flits between winter and spring. One never quite knows if the day will resemble the bleakness of January or the pleasantness of May. Today, at least, the skies looked ahead and claimed spring as their own. The Public Garden and Common were full of happy tourists and even happier locals, who have endured a long and difficult winter. But what a difference the hue of the skies can make! 
We've waited for the blue of today for a long time. 

Caffe Vittoria

Sunday, March 30, 2014

One doesn't go to Caffe Vittoria to work. One goes for pleasure. One goes for the cappuccino and the conversation and perhaps the pastries as well. There are no laptops propped on tables or coffee drinkers with headphones stuck in their ears. There is no pretension here and no championing of elitism, as so often felt in other cafes.  Caffe Vittoria has already won the race against time, having established themselves in 1929 and still just as popular. You can linger in your seat for as long as you like, and when you are done sipping your cappuccino you can stare at the walls, covered like a gallery with the institution's most precious memories. Caffe Vittoria tries to be nothing but what it has been for 85 years, and what it has been is authentic, satisfying and successful. 

The Public Library of Brookline

Sunday, February 16, 2014

The Public Library of Brookline is a magnificent building inside and out. Tourists and locals alike flock to the Boston Public Library (and for good reason), but I prefer this lesser known gem, which has an impressive history of its own. Though the library itself was established in 1857, the present building dates from 1910 and is probably most well known for it's lovely, oak-paneled reference room. I find myself here on most winter weekends, embracing the cold on my walk there and then distracting myself from it by the books that await me. It has been an eventful winter in Boston, dominated by frigid temperatures and snow that temper my yearning to explore elsewhere, even beyond my own neighborhood. 
So instead, I hibernate within the walls of this library or my apartment,  exploring new worlds within the books I hold in my dry, dry hands. 

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