boston i.

Boston // December 2017 // canon 6D 

I missed this place. 

My mother drives us in from the suburbs--it's a grey day, foggy and cloudy, and a factory sends big smoke clouds into the sky, which we see from the mass of multi-leveled roads just south of the city. We're in city limits, technically, but we haven't entered it, not really--right outside of the tall buildings and bustle.

Downtown is in rare form, tonight. Snow and rain gently falls from the sky, making the pavement glisten. The common is lit up with multicolored lights, and people rush here and there, carrying bags of Christmas gifts, girls and their mothers dressed up for the Nutcracker. That's where my mother and sister and I are going--a yearly tradition.My ten days at home--ten days, an eternity and nothing all at once--are marked by bitterly cold winds and temperatures, and this evening is no different, so we put our collars up and brave the temperatures. I meet up with a friend and we run off to see the lights, taking photographs, and meet up with my sister and mom for dinner--the Potato Bowl is playing at the bar in the restaurant, and I keep my eyes averted from the Wyoming--Central Michigan game. I'll watch it some other time.

I don't know how to explain it, but whenever I go to Boston, a weight falls off my shoulders and I feel at home. And that doesn't really make sense, because I grew up in the suburbs and, all together, have spent only a year and a half of my 23 years on Earth breathing the city's air--but it's home, it's home, it's home. The minute my feet hit the pavement, I walk quicker and I stand taller and I know exactly where I'm going and why. I am a Boston person. This is where my family is from, this is the city my father was raised in, this is the city I've always dreamed of living in. I know downtown Boston, Chinatown and the North End and the Esplanade like the back of my hand. I trace the T stops in my head when I can't sleep, the way some count sheep. This must be the place, the Talking Heads sing, and I wonder, off-handedly, why I ever leave it.

Encampment + a photo shoot

from a weekend this fall, in a house frozen in time on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. if somewhere would hire me to shoot their clothing line, i'd be the happiest gal alive. i swear. 


I'm sitting at my kitchen table, which looks out to a parking lot littered with tumbleweeds, a dusting of snow ringing the concrete separators. While it's been a mild January so far, today's a cold one, and it has me dreaming of this fall, for sunny days hiking in sweatshirts. 

Vedauwoo is another hidden gem of Wyoming. It straddles the border of Albany and Laramie counties, halfway between Laramie and Cheyenne, part of the vast Medicine Bow National Forest. It's a haven for climbers, but is just as fun to hike--especially if you take a few minutes to deviate from the path and scramble over some of the rock formations [but bring a friend!] 

My favorite trail is the Turtle Rock trail--at just over three miles, it's a great way to spend an hour or two. The trail takes you through meadows and aspen groves, past little ponds and up and around the rocks. It's best enjoyed an hour or two before sunset, when the rocks take on a dark reddish, pink glow and the sun starts to fall behind the trees. 

I hiked the trail a couple of months ago [and will hike it again, soon, most likely] with a friend of mine. We took our time to stop and take pictures, hop over rocks in streams, scramble to the top of rocks off the trail, and enjoy the beautiful October weather. At the end of the hike, we were lucky enough to see two moose [my first two moose!]--and when we got back to the parking lot  we saw a momma moose with her babies. I stood on a stump and took pictures, until the moose got so close to me that I had to jog away. [never in any real danger, just a precaution!] It was crazy, to get so up close and personal with wildlife--I've never experienced anything like it. 

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