On Brookline Avenue, I encountered this:
Yep, snow, lying on the side of the road, in July. I took it as a good omen, and resisted the temptation to frolic in it or make snowballs. Who knew where that snow had been, or what chemicals might have been keeping it from melting on a hot day?
Later on it occurred to me that I'd been walking near Brookline Ice & Coal, the place to go for all things frozen and watery, like ice sculptures. By then, I was a hot, sticky mess despite my decently shady route. Next time, I'm helping myself to the snowbank before I trek back to Boston. Snow in July is exactly when we need it.