Friday night, in spite of my being dog-tired, I found myself taking a detour up Prospect Hill instead of going directly home.
St. Joseph's Church in Union Square. Very often, when I pass by in the morning, there is a peregrine (or two) perched on the gold cross to the right of the bell tower. Today, I think someone wanted a change of scenery, as they were perched atop the steeple at the Richardsonian-Romanesque church turned condo over on Summer Street.
From here, Boston looks almost harmless.
Widow watches and rooftops in the foreground; Boston's financial district in the background. (That's the Custom House tower between the blue house's brick chimneys.)
A favorite painted lady I pass on my nightly walks home. She's actually halfway down Prospect Hill, heading in the direction of Medford.
Made it home just in time to catch the sun setting over my neck of the woods (Winter Hill).
Yes, this place has its nice points; hopefully it doesn't end up another Ibiza or Nice.