Suzanne's Mom's Blog

The view from my former office included a spectacular sunrise over Boston Harbor, but I also like the more human scale of my current view.

The new office is up two stories. Birds congregate in the tree outside the window. I will be watching as the buds start to open in a few weeks.

I check out the people on the street while I eat my lunch — what they are carrying, what they are doing.

Here is a woman standing in a doorway, having a lengthy conversation on her mobile phone. She has long blond hair and a camel coat. Here is a man clambering from the backseat of a car (an Uber ride?) lugging two grocery bags and several large buckets of what looks like salsa. Here is another man wearing no coat despite the cold weather, remonstrating with someone just ahead of him on the crosswalk.

A woman and man are walking down the side street. They pause. I think they know each other. She seems to be writing something on a piece of paper.  She gives it to him.

She touches his arm in a kind way. They separate. Oh. Maybe it wasn’t a note. Maybe it was money. I’m deciding they didn’t know each other. He is looking in the window at Dunkin Donuts, swinging some keys. Will he go in and buy something with the money? No. He crosses the street in a desultory way, addresses a young woman who rushes by, looking back once. He ambles out of my view, swinging the keys.

A man with a yellow puffy jacket and a black cap is sweeping debris into a dustpan near the Dunkin Donuts. I recently saw someone else dressed like him in the neighborhood. I conclude they are part of a city cleanup crew.

I didn’t get a photo of the Providence police car outside the Dunkin Donuts. Perhaps another day.