My private portal

Clarendon Street's walkways are other sidewalk in Back Bay-- unassuming, almost always busy, grasping all of the rare sunlight that manages to fall on the concrete. I cross Stuart Street, my eyes dimly focused on the white ten story building a couple blocks in front of me. I've almost finished my morning coffee, hot again to ward off my morning allergy attacks as the weather begins to show signs of cooling.

It's now late summer, and the day lillies in the sidewalk-lining planters have disappeared, but gardeners have not yet cut the leaves back to the ground. A smattering of leaves at the top of trees are beginning to turn yellow-- the first signs of autumn have arrived. A small patch of green warms what would otherwise be another boring city sidewalk among the white collar business world. In the morning, the winds here are still fairly quiet. I know that as the weather cools and the winds shift, the walk from the station to my office will no longer be the easy stroll it is now.

I cross the steps of the old Hancock Building. There's one small spot that I notice every time I walk over it. It's not marked by anything other than a warm, wonderful memory that has been burned into the concrete. Each time I walk over it, a soft smile forces its way past the typical commuter glaze I normally hold on my way to Boylston Street. If I grasp onto the smile and look around, I see snow.

Swirling snow piles on the steps, over the bushes, and covers the sidewalk at my feet. I know that the wind is howling in the intersection, but for just that moment, everything is silent. All of the commuters disappear, and only Erich and I exist in the heart of Back Bay. I feel the warmth of the morning sun of August... but all I see is the nighttime blizzard of January racing above me between the buildings, and feel the sensation of a new band of silver that matches the sparkle of the snow around my finger.

As I cross St. James Street, the snow disappears and the August sun returns. I touch the flat side of the delicate band once with the tip of my thumb and sigh. It doesn't last long, but it's a wonderful feeling.

I've walked through my private portal that now welcomes me every morning, and it's time to face another day.