This time of year I find myself homesick for Boston – the place where I spent my fundamental years of development at university, living in a brownstone near Kenmore Square. I miss riding bikes through the Public Gardens with my closest friends, the cold autumn air blowing through my hair. I had a red cruiser named Killian that met it’s (unfortunate) devise my senior year of school. I miss wandering through the Harvard Arboretum, and mornings on the Charles River path, running alongside the crew teams at practice. I miss shopping in Harvard Square and I miss the nightlife in Allston. Nothing beats stale free popcorn from the Sil, or the afterparties at Model. I miss my job whipping up lattes at Espresso Royale, and would kill for a tequila sunrise these days. I even miss waiting for the green line T that was supposed to come an hour ago.
Boston is a remarkable city – brimming with intellect, history and beauty. There’s something almost academic in the smell of the leaves there – or maybe it’s just because there are so many universities in such close proximity that the air radiates with collegiate wit. I have never lived or visited a place with such diversity, or been a part of a community that fosters innovation with such hunger to learn. Much of who I am today is a result of my open-minded peers from college – those that pushed me to embrace creativity, that never set standards for comparison, and those who encouraged individuality and authenticity. While we’ve all moved on to different states and cities – California, New York, Virginia, Illinois – I’ll never forget the lessons that I learned from each of them, or the way the Fall peaked my senses and sparked my hunger to learn.
