The bridge connecting the Cambridge side of Mass Ave to the Boston side was named the Harvard Bridge because, rumor has it, MIT engineers looked at the plans and declined to have their name associated with it. It’s one of the most beautiful bridges across the Charles, with a simple design and slighter grade than the others.
It finally feels like spring. My jacket’s open. There’s no wind. The trees are white and pink in bloom. The city is reflected perfectly, on either side, in the still water. I see Boston above and Boston below, two identical glowing cities.
They are both mine.