Christopher Columbus conspicuously ignored us while we walked by him under the large trellis to get back to the city and warmer indoor activities. I looked but couldn't find out why he's displayed sideways in the archway.
The park was very quiet under the fresh snow, with only a few shivering people walking fast through it, bundled up to their eyes and eager to get out of the cold.
The park looks completely different in the summer, when it comes alive with outdoor concerts, art fairs, school field trips, volunteer gardening, and even fitness classes, but for now its frozen landscape has the stillness of a sculpture.
Everything is sparse and white on white - the snow, the weathered trellis, the statue, the steps, the clouds, to be honest winter is not the most exciting of seasons, after you admire the pristine gleaming landscape for a while you start praying for signs of life.
We hurried back to Quincy Market, the lit up Christmas tree and lovely holiday music, although it wasn't much warmer there, but it felt a little more cheerful. I wish someone thought to make up winter holidays for the beginning of the year, January through March can be pretty gruesome, all horrendous weather, no celebrations.
We've been to Boston many times, but somehow never managed to make our way to this little hidden gem. The Prado comes as a surprise in the middle of the city, a welcome respite from the bustling activity of Hanover Street.
While I was trying to find out more about the statue of Paul Revere, I got a history lesson, but not the one I was expecting: the monument required seven different versions between the first sketches and the final clay model and fifty five years, no, that is not a misprint, for the final clay model to be finally cast in bronze and erected on the plaza.
I think I lived all my life with the wrong expectations, because a fifty five year wait to see results never made it into my consciousness as a possibility, and I'm a very patient person as people go. I thought waiting seventeen years for a wisteria to bloom was unreasonable.
I don't know if I'm comforted or depressed by this finding. Comforted, I guess: there is always tomorrow, even if it happens a few decades from now.
Suddenly I envy tortoises.