I ran up and down Storrow and Memorial, back and forth across the Mass Ave Bridge and the Craigie Drawbridge. It was cold, it was clear, and the sky was lit up dusty blue at sunset. And as I crossed the Mass Ave Bridge, I looked over my shoulder at Boston.
It was as if the heavens had reached down and swathed Boston in light.
From the Prudential Tower to Government Center, there was a halo of golden pink light. The Charles reflected the pink and the water turned mauve. There were little clusters of sailboats too, but from far away all I could see were bright white triangular sails skimming the water's surface.
Sometimes, I love this city fiercely, like Big Papi last spring at Fenway:
But more often, I love this city quietly. I love this city not with my words, but with my soul. I love this city everyday. I love this city most of all when I'm running by myself, the wind pushing me forward, the sunset lighting the way.