That’s what one of the people who wasn’t in this shot called out when I took it.  Oh well:

Photos from a little English called Cambridge.  I mean in Massachusetts.  But seriously, look at these pictures and tell me if you can even tell the difference:

I’ve never quite appreciated the four seasons the way I do here in Boston.  Living in New York, the winter was kind of long and the summer was kind of long.  Both of them were hot.  In Washington, the winter was short and the summer was long.  In neither place did I notice the fall all that much.  In New York, fall mostly meant going back to school.  In Washington it meant fewer green trees and hot days.

Living here in Boston for some reason, I have a heightened sense of awareness of the seasons.  The summers can be really hot, but they also mean I’m going to have a lot of fun.  Winter means skiing.  Spring means rain.  And fall is just kind of relaxing.  Fall is the quietest time of year.  Kind of a time to just relax and hang out.  In this case, by the Charles with your friends and one very photogenic and friendly dog:

All I do is wander from one long twisty hallway to another.  Occasionally I stop in a lobby, but otherwise, it is all twisty hallways late at night.  I guess I’m a vampire.

Or just overworked and underpaid:

I visited Arlington National Cemetery as a 14 year old on a school trip to Washington.  Even then I thought it was a special place.

This past weekend I visited it again.  I visited it so long ago that I completely forgot what it looked like.  And I found it quite lovely and peaceful.  It reminded me of Arnold Arboretum here in Boston.  There was something majestic and beautiful to those boulevards in the cemetery.  And a fitting resting place for the people buried there and all the sacrifices they made.

Arlington.  Peaceful:

I mean big woman.  I mean big person: