Boston and Cambridge, June 2, 2013

★★★★ The harbor islands faded off in the southern distance in a moderate haze. Tortoiseshell ripples of light wobbled around the bottom of the hotel pool, through murky water. Somewhere in the glass-roofed corridor of the mall, outside the food court, a bird was chirping, the sound echoing off the polished surfaces. It was still savagely hot, but not sadistically so; the sky was plain blue. Ahead of the taxi, around another bend or two in the river, the gilt spire of Lowell House flashed. A seagull flapped by, its trailing edges lit up white. A glare headache was beginning to move into the space vacated by the pre-coffee headache. In the courtyard, though, there was shade and a breeze. For the first time all weekend, it was nicer outdoors than in. The breeze tossed the treetops, flung little bits of plants over the table, and spilled an unfinished cup of coffee. Other people’s children, cheerful and nicely appointed, climbed trees and were tousled by the wind.