Long Walk in the city 6/21/11

It was a beautiful Boston summer day, eight hours of which I had spent in cramped air-conditioned offices. Walking home from class, I determined that it was a crime not to get out in the city and enjoy this fine weather. I arrived home, put on a serious pair of walking shoes, leashed up my exuberant longhaired dachshund, and headed for Mass Ave. I started out walking on Massachusetts Avenue through the Back Bay towards Cambridge. The streets were full of traffic and swarms of various people and tourists looking to shop, drink, and dine on Newbury Street. The busy atmosphere on Newbury street is always exciting, but at rush hour it becomes almost too hectic. Continuing on through the back bay, I enjoy the relaxing quiet atmosphere that settles in as I walk further away from the busy streets. Tourists and shoppers are slowly replaced by runners, bikers, fellow dog walkers, and residents of the area traveling home . Rows and rows of beautiful, historic brownstones make up the majority of the buildings, with wide sidewalks and beautiful foliage lining the streets. After crossing Beacon street, I arrive at the Mass Ave bridge, and take the footbridge down to the Charles River. The Charles River esplanade has always been one of my favorite outdoor places to go and relax in Boston. The atmosphere reminds me of my childhood in rural New Hampshire. My younger self enjoyed tree climbing, frog-catching, and lounging in gardens, burying my toes in the dirt. However, as a young musician applying for colleges, I couldn’t resist the pull of a city like Boston or New York. Thus the serenity I find in the esplanade is the closest I come to compromising with my adult self and my inner, younger self. Runners, bike riders, people walking, dog owners throwing Frisbees and tennis balls, young people, old people, and so many more make up the population that frequents this beautiful park. Besides attracting people looking for exercise, the esplanade also draws in sunbathers, students, tight-rope walkers, cooks lighting charcoal barbecues, musicians, and artists. With this amount of diversity, there is always something interesting to see. My walk on the esplanade continued all the way to the footbridge exiting to Beacon Hill. After a brief stop to give my dog a drink of water, I continued the walk throughout the beautiful Beacon Hill neighborhood. As a proud resident of Boston concluding my third year in the city, I decided to randomly turn down new unexplored streets and blindly navigate to the Boston Common. The people I passed in Beacon Hill regarded me and my well groomed canine companion like fellow residents of “the hill”. I love living in Boston and the Beacon Hill neighborhood is one of the most historic and beautiful places to reside. It is also one of the most expensive, inhabited by notable individuals throughout history like Louisa May- Alcott, Charles Sumner, Edward Kennedy, John Hancock, and at present, the Heinz-Kerry’s. Many of the Beacon Hill homes were used as stops in the Underground Railroad. When I would stop to chat with a fellow walker I made no effort to confess that I actually lived in the much more affordable Symphony neighborhood. I indulged in a somewhat false identity on this leg of the walk that I was a property owner in this area, out for a walk after a hard days work trading stock, or in court; rather than practicing trumpet. I continued past beautiful building after building on the narrow streets. I took in tiny corner markets, playgrounds, and little farm stands set up on corners. Soon I emerged on Beacon Street and crossed to walk along the Boston Common. This evening, the Common was brimming with life. As I walked on one of the many paths that cross this park, two gigantic young English Sheepdogs off of their leashes bounded towards my tiny dachshund and I. Instantly my 10 lb dog began simultaneously cowering between my feet and ferociously barking to warn off the much bigger dogs. As if on cue the sheepdog owners emerged wearing matching Lacoste polo shirts, apologizing for their dog’s behaviors. Immediately after apologizing they started questioning me about my dog’s training. “What dog school did she attend?” “Is she properly socialized?” I assured the couple that my dog was trained and fully socialized, explaining that she was not accustomed to being approached by energetic large dogs ten times her size. I finished chatting with this couple and walked away, finding a nice spot on the grass to lie down on. As I laid on the grass, with my dog, I simply stayed in one place and watched the whole city move around me. After 15 minutes of this peaceful rest, I began my journey home; for my route home I walked down a bustling Boylston Street, and passed through Copley Square. Being a Tuesday, the farmer’s market was still going on, and I strolled amongst the tents watching as merchants finished their sales for the day and closed up shop. I continued home on Huntington Avenue, taking a detour through the Christian Science Plaza, to let my dog play in the fountain. Since it was hot that day, the fountain was crowded with young children, splashing, laughing, and playing while under the watchful eyes of their parents. I crossed Massachusetts Avenue, turned at Symphony Hall, and made my way home, feeling a little bit better acquainted with my city than when I started out.