My first summer in Boston, I swam in Walden Pond at least a few times a week. Off work at 3, Ced and I would hop into his beater and go, blasting Tom Petty and shouting the lyrics out the window. It was lovely to return, and to stroll along Author’s Ridge.
Amidst the authors, there was this Civil War soldier, who was probably injured in the Siege of Vicksburg and died a few days after. It was a strange “full circle” moment, to see my home state represented in this state I once called home.