Last Thursday was my last day at my old job. (My new job starts on Monday). I was saddened to leave the company where I’ve been for 8 years (minus those 18 months when I left to work at a doomed start-up before returning, tail firmly between legs). I’ll miss the people, I’ll miss the work, but above all, I’ll miss the commute.
I’m the type of nostalgia-prone person who memorializes events as they are happening. So on Wednesday (my second-to-last day, and Veterans Day as well so there were significantly less fellow commuters than usual) I brought along my archaic digital camera to visually render my beloved commute for posterity.
First, I walk to Mass Ave towards the bike path. Greeting me on Mass Ave is an aging commercial strip with a bunch of sad-sack stores such as the Hair-Port USA, which according to the neon-orange sign in the window has been ‘under new management’ for at least two years. “It’s Time for a Supersonic Cut!” Oh, I wish it was, but it’s 7:30am and I’m on my way to work.
On Mass Ave, I could grab a bus to Harvard Square… if I wanted to shave a few years off of my life by standing on an alternately careening, alternately screeching to a halt vehicle for 30 minutes. So I walk past the bus stop, and this “unofficial” bus stop erected by a local resident. Unfortunately, it’s too far from the actual bus stop to get any use, and I’ve never sat there, but it’s nice to have options.
From there, it’s just a hop skip and jump to the bike path. There’s a brief view of the lovely Spy Pond…
And then I hit the path, which is typically busy with commuters, exercisers, and people picking up their dogs’ poop (not pictured).
After about a mile, the Alewife T station rears its big ugly concrete head.
There’s always a train waiting at Alewife, and I snag a seat even on busy days. I then devour as much as the New York Times as I can in however long it takes the MBTA to deliver me to South Station (25 minutes on a good day, 40 minutes on an exceptionally bad day). Normally the train becomes quite packed, but on Veteran’s Day I had enough room to do Sun Salutations… if I had wanted to.
I surface in downtown Boston. I get a jolt of energy from the hurried streams of fellow workforce warriors plowing to their offices amid the vibrant urban cacophony of horns and sirens. I walk past the Federal Reserve and across the Fort Point Channel, just beyond which is my former office.
Eight hours later, I emerge from my office and head back to South Station. South Station at dusk… always a welcome sight!
Most days, I head off to my yoga class in Cambridge. Other days I have errands to run, places to go, people to meet, French classes to fumble my way through. Oh, I’ll miss this commute, for it allowed me to think of myself as a Bostonian as opposed to a suburbanite who is just visiting.
