I can't complain about the unseasonably warm weather, especially as it gives me a chance to ride my bike around my dreamy new neighborhood.  Love it, love it, love it.  I know I said the same thing, basically, three years ago when I moved to Davis, but bear in mind I had just moved from Dorchester, which, as delightful as it is, really has nothing like a Davis Square. 

It took me a while to uncover the truth of Davis, didn't it? Turns out it's kind of Body Snatcher Central.  I mean, they look human, but you get the feeling if you crack a smile, you'll get one of these back:


And then all the sudden you're running for your life, a thundering herd of hipsters in skinny jeans and high-tops in hot pursuit. 

To be sure, the new neighborhood has its share of 'em.  Berklee's right around the corner.  But there's actual diversity (and not just a lot of Nimby-ass douchebags who claim to be "for" it) in the Fenway.  It's an old-school urban center with all the glory and squalor that comes with it.

The Mother Ship has landed.  Honey, I'm home!

I'm seeing the Fenway, Back Bay, and the South End — which have been my stomping grounds for years — in a whole new light, as a resident.  My bicycle commute to work is, like, ten minutes.  And as much as I appreciated my old ride along the Charles, there were days I really had to psyche myself up for it.  There were days when it was a real ordeal.  I can already tell I'll be doing a lot more leisurely strolling in town on my way to and from work, and that appeals to me immensely.

Today, in the South End, I came across this stand of dahlias about to bloom:
  

Hey, why not, right? 

This was right across from the McKinley Academy, which has, at the Warren Street entrance of its dismal structure, a vibrant example of kid-art of the highest caliber:


Those chickens, or whatever they are, are worthy of Chagall. Love all the pot leaves, too.

Seriously love this mural, though, for real.  But it is obviously in need of some TLC.  The bottom third has been totally chipped away.  It's gone.  And you can tell it's the kind of thing that — because it's kid-art — eventually, when it gets to looking real scraggly, nobody'll bat an eye when it disappears. 

Truth is, nobody would bat an eye if they razed the whole building...


And if it weren't a public school it'd be long gone by now, given the newly upscale neighborhood it suddenly finds itself in the heart of. 

It's one of the things that's so exasperating and strangely inspiring about these old neighborhoods.  That they endure, in all their glory and squalor, and somehow even flourish now and again.