BU Beach

Kristen Janes, Boston University SC ‘16

A part of me wonders if traffic in Boston ever stops, the noise is constant and the people never stop. I find it almost impossible to go three seconds without a car passing through your line of vision. However, through the traffic and the noise, there is a bright, cheery row house across the Charles. The scale and beauty is a great contract to the dull, tall buildings that run behind it. Like every good row house, the boats are stacked and matching, and the windows gleam from the sun. Between all the color and organization, there is a man. His dark shirt and pants stick out against the yellow paint and he stands along the very edge of the dock. He seems unworried that the cold, dirty water is inches from his toes, and one step could put him under.

The man does not move, speak or make any move to step away from the water. For a brief second I think he will jump in to swim, then I remember no sane person would do that. Then again, maybe this guy is going a little crazy just standing there staring at the flat water. He stares for seconds, then minutes and on. The birds chirp, and the cars don’t stop coming but all he does is look over the water. It isn’t until a tour boat passes in front of him that he turns, stumbles on a loose board or even nothing, and disappears through the shiny, red garage doors. He takes my interest in the water with him, and I move on to the shiny circle like sculpture across the grass. I’m still not sure what it is, but maybe the man from the dock stares at this too.