left field in Foss Park

Somerville, MA: Long story short, even being back when I’m sick with something vile I picked up on the airplane is magical. The place is. I think it always was, even though at first I couldn’t take all the sarcasm (why does everyone have to be so mean?). Then I got used to it, then I realized that for someone like me, being criticized by the right person in the right way (with humor and affection but no artificial sweetening) was the only way I could take a compliment. From left field.

Also, I can swear here, without consequences. I can say ‘fuck’ twice in a sentence, meaninglessly, and no one hears it, not even me.

Then there’s the way the light hits, especially at this time of year when the trees have turned. Saw a tiny Japanese maple in someone’s front yard yesterday, all its scarlet leaves quivering when there was no wind anywhere else, like it was about to take flight.