These streets, I've driven them before; these squares, I've visited: still, I was on the trail of something I hadn't noticed before and found what I hadn't expected.
The project I've taken up to extend the Emerald Necklace from Franklin Park sent me this afternoon to the back of a dollar store where I found an unadvertised metal bridge to Milton over a foaming weir in the Neponset River, downstream from its confluence with Mother Brook, the canal cut back in the 17th C from the Charles.
Later, I found myself going through an elaborate stone wall with triple lines of granite rock embedded in the concrete of its top. Between the wall and the river was a wide shelf whereon a bike path or greenway could be constructed. Now littered with old tires and TV sets, one day it could be where city people sit to watch the rippling flow of this under-appreciated river.
The project I've taken up to extend the Emerald Necklace from Franklin Park sent me this afternoon to the back of a dollar store where I found an unadvertised metal bridge to Milton over a foaming weir in the Neponset River, downstream from its confluence with Mother Brook, the canal cut back in the 17th C from the Charles.
On the other side, old burned out warehouses, huge abandoned circular tanks, concrete bunkers, a museum of dereliction, speaking to the former significance of the river and its power. Every surface had been tagged by graffitti artists in bright shapes and colors. Cans of spray paint littered the ground.
Later, I found myself going through an elaborate stone wall with triple lines of granite rock embedded in the concrete of its top. Between the wall and the river was a wide shelf whereon a bike path or greenway could be constructed. Now littered with old tires and TV sets, one day it could be where city people sit to watch the rippling flow of this under-appreciated river.
Why had I not known about any of this? Not known about the big rusted wheels and gears covered with weeds in the parking lot, not known about the new bike paths already operating and under construction downstream?
Still what it gave me was a encounter with the plenitude which never fails to produce when I look through the opening, around the corner, on the other side of the whole in the fence. Are all places as littered with discoverables as those I visited today? Maybe this mix of abandoned industry and incipient recreation is peculiarly Boston.
Indeed the big project itself, to give bikers in one day's pedalling the experience of rivers, ponds, hills, shore and city via trails, parkways and boulevards, is grand conglomerate of surprises and discoveries in this old, well-travelled place.
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