It felt like summer yesterday, prompting these young women to leap into the Charles River near Harvard Square. The river immortalized in the song, "Dirty Water," is now reportedly clean enough to swim in "on most days" (although it's illegal - as is, I suspect, jumping off Weeks Footbridge). To me, it's still a leap of faith, so to speak.
I left work early yesterday afternoon to meet a friend in Harvard Square before 5pm to have dinner and a walk. A scene from modern life: When I got there, I stood outside our meeting place and called on my cell to tell her I was there, and she told me she was there, too -? It turned out we were standing on either side of a pole talking to each other on our cells.
We grabbed an outdoor table at the Grafton Street pub, which has a lovely cafe patio out front (except that it seems to be on the corner of a bus/truck route, so periodically beset by roaring engines). I had a lovely Niçoise salad with seared fresh tuna, delicious and very healthy albeit augmented by the irresistible shoestring pub fries off my friend's fish and chips plate.
Then it was off to walk through bustling Harvard Square and along the river.