Taking in the beauty of a sunny Saturday in Boston. I'm perched at the base of Ft. Independence which is on Castle Island, South Boston and I have a beautiful view of the inner harbor. A passerby reminds me that place is known to the locals as the "Irish Riviera," given that the area was once inhabited by a preponderance of people of Irish descent.
At a distant I can see Logan International Airport. The sea is an almost teal blue color with soft rippling waves caused by a light westerly breeze. Nearby two dragon flies are darting in somewhat erratic geometric patterns.
A catamaran skims on the water making it's way back to port and as it does it displaces water causing for bigger waves which are felt by the fishermen who are fishing from the pier. From the southeast a plane is coming into view making its landing descent. I can now hear the engines roar as it slows down on the runway.
Motor boats of various types are seen crisscrossing each other in the water,
The clip clop sound of flip flops are heard beating a cadenced rhythm.
An expanse of rolling lawn lies in front of me and at a distance someone is flying a
A steady stream of planes continue to approach as if someone is gently dropping them from the sky.
The gentle breeze is soothing and drying my skin which has begun to perspire from being under a sun that has absolutely no competition for space in a cloudless sky. An occasional sea gull replaces the sight of a momentary plane less sky.
I can hear the chatter of the passing couples who are walking the spacious area.
I savor and enjoy each of these moments that follow one another without cease.
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