Christmas is a sad season for many. I rode up in an elevator with this man at the Park Street subway station and he just looked lost in sad thoughts.
This lady learned to play the tin whistle in college, in a class taught on medieval literature. She was playing on the bridge going over the Boston Garden lagoon. In all the times I’ve been there, I’ve never seen her before. She was sweet. It must be the season.
A mellow day, warmish and dry. People were happy with themselves and with each other.
At Boston’s Antequarian Book Fair today, this dapper gentleman was looking at a most unusual print. I have no idea what it was in reference to but the photograph was worth taking.
The saying “old age is not for sissies” struck me as being appropriate for this image. This gentleman was walking very slowly and deliberately down this empty corridor. He struck me as resigned to his condition and particularly brave about it.
I couldn’t believe how wonderfully the light bathed this guy’s face. It was almost as good as light in a portrait studio.
She yanked a low hanging branch around her shoulder to give her shot the proper background. Not great for the tree but it must have really helped the final result. Plenty of reds to be sure.