A moveable feast

The years have come and gone. You find yourself now at an intersection and you are told it is time for you to commence your life and jump into the unknown. Tonight you think of all that has passed. What was this place in which you spent these years? When your eyes glaze over with the years and shine in the memory of a moment you cannot retell, what do you see? And what will you forget? A bit less than 4 years ago I came to MIT. After a period away, I recently came back to wear a piece of black cloth and walk through the door. As I arrived I walked in the hours between midnight and dawn, the madrugada, that interval where a city’s darkness opens it to the eye. When the streets of Cambridge are almost silent but for the skid of bike wheels against asphalt, when a sudden noise might mean danger and the possibility of two strangers truly staring at each other. And so it is at night that I remember you, Boston, and Cambridge. I felt nostalgia at streets I had biked across in every hour of…