Nearby: The Houses of Salem

 I was not fully prepared for the beauty of Salem. 

 When I left for Salem this past Saturday from North Station, I anticipated a typical exhibition of New England charm combined with an exceptional amount of paranormal kitsch. Without a doubt, there was quite a display of the latter (it is October, after all), but to my delight, I found such elegance in the streets that promised only a predictable quaintness. I found a wide range of early American architecture scattered throughout Salem's well-kept avenues, enough to keep any student of architecture satisfied. Perhaps my love for early America has me biased, but I left smitten with Salem, a place that felt even more impressive than nearby Concord or Lexington in terms of reflecting the early days of our country.  Even beyond Chestnut Street, affectionately described as "New England's Prettiest Street," I found style and significance.

 

A Lady Escapes: White Mountain Wonder

In early October, I take to the mountains. It is there, amidst a wilderness of peaks, that I can best appreciate nature's grand display of autumn color. Thus last weekend I drove north to the White Mountains yet again, where near 80% of the trees had turned.  The simple and relatively quick route to the White Mountains encourages my regular returns, but I am repeatedly struck by the beauty I continuously find, safeguarded in the old places and bursting in the new. The Kancamangus Highway was as glorious as ever, but stumbling upon the Silver Cascade waterfall and hiking to Ripley Falls (both in Crawford Notch) afforded such excitement and exhilaration that made me eager for more trips. Is it odd that one of my favorite parts about being a Bostonian is how easy it is to get away? 

Fall in the Fens

Fall has arrived in earnest. The mornings are colder and the evenings darker; scarves and sweaters are donned as the leaves begin to fall in the crisp autumn air, and Bostonians stop where they did not stop before, to take note of the colorful world around them. Here are weekend photographs of the Fens, as I made my way to a coffeehouse this past Sunday morning. The weather was appropriately overcast, so that no clouds could compete with the splendor of the trees. The Back Bay Fens are a perfect place to pause and observe the magic of New England's favorite season.