The 4th of July long weekend is upon us. Back Bay has even more tourists than usual, so we hear many languages as we do errands along Newbury Street. I often hear French, Japanese, and Italian on the residential streets, too, which is good — our neighborhood has more to offer than shopping, bars, and restaurants. But the tourists I like best are those who come in the winter. Two years ago, we could spot them from a distance even if they weren't consulting maps — no one else was wandering the Public Garden so gamely, in inappropriate footwear, despite snow piled above their heads.
That's a nice memory; I look forward to the leaves turning, frost, and snow. But now we're on our second day of Maine-like summer weather: dry and breezy instead of sticky, warm but not hot. It's unnaturally pleasant and even I can't complain.
Okay, I'm already complaining that it won't last.
We've started taking sunset walks along the Esplanade. The colors are best around 8:30 or later:
There will be crowds on the Esplanade for the next two days, so we'll avoid them and go elsewhere. We thought about driving to Maine today to do errands in Freeport but some major roads are closing later for tonight's [non-fireworks] concert so getting home would likely be a nightmare.
Instead I will hang out with my husband and the cats on the sofa and try to reduce my tall stack of unread New Yorkers. I knew I was way behind but was appalled to discover additional untouched issues from July 2015 to December, which I had cleverly hidden away around Christmastime. Having so many to read feels more like a homework assignment than entertainment. Fortunately summer afternoons, no matter how perfect the weather may be, are also ideal for napping.