Edge of the World

For a period of time, I was flying a lot of Boston trips, getting in after flying all night, napping for an hour or so, and then forcing myself awake in search of food and something to fill the afternoon before I could legitimately go back to sleep for the night.

The 30-minute ferry crossing between Boston and the town of Hingham to the south winds through the Harbor Islands, slashing a wake through the often flat waters of Boston Harbor as it does so. On nice weather days, this short adventure, coupled with the 20-minute walk between the hotel and the ferry pier, normally filled in enough time so that I would be looking for dinner by the time I got back. I never had any specific reason to go to Hingham (although one time I stopped at the Verizon store there to get a charger for my phone, and another time I stopped in PetSmart to see what animals they had). This trip was always much more about the journey than the destination.

On one particular return trip, the boat left the warm, sunshine-filled afternoon behind in Hingham—then entered a wall of fog just past the spit of land separating the inside approaches from the open ocean. Fifteen minutes later, we wove our way between ships in the channel, ducking under the approach to Logan Airport as we headed back to the Ferry Pier... and dinner... and sleep.

Boston Harbor, Massachusetts 2023

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