18 floors all the way up. Over looking Fenway Park and panoramic views of the city.
Add in the sunsets and the lack of other people (I’m literally the only person up there 95% of the time) and there’s no doubting this is my happy place.
I could say the same thing about the beach or anywhere by the ocean – but those are broad – and a lot of others would have the same answer.
My roof however, has come to be my place. I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I appreciate being able to go retreat up to the 18th floor (whether it’s for 5 minutes to take a freezing cold full moon photo or the entire afternoon) as I head into my fourth year living here.
Lately, the roof has served as my lunch time retreat. This past week I’ve been going up there with my beach chair (pictured above), setting my timer on my phone for 20 minutes, taking my watch off (see ya notifications), phone away, music on, and just sitting. Face up in the sun.
I actually started doing these regular “Vitamin D” breaks last year (or maybe even pre pandemic, but they became more meaningful during the pandemic) and I grew to love them. I got into the habit of taking a lot of my sunbathing breaks in the local park ahead of the pandemic, because there’s actual grass and room to lay out, but then I got stung by a bee one day (and evidently seem to be allergic – so, the roof is a bit more “relaxing”).
Somedays I find it really challenging to sit there for the whole 20 minutes and not do anything (other than be), especially if I have a lot going on that afternoon or a lot of energy that day. Other days, it’s the best 20 minutes of my day and I’m alarmed at how quickly the 20 minutes goes.
Surprisingly, I’ve only used the word sunset once so far, and anyone who knows me knows that majority of my visits to the roof happen either during the golden hour, mid sunset, or just post sunset. There is nothing I love more than a good sunset.
In fact, I’m just recalling as I type this, that often I’ll send a “sunset forecast” to my friends Dana and Caite. I have a little spot in the window of my apartment in which you can see the clouds reflecting. Those are always my key to whether or not a trip to the roof is warranted. Pro tip: the more clouds the better. Cotton candy sunsets are far more intriguing than a clear sky sunset.
I’ve developed a bit of a reputation for my love of sunsets. If there’s a really spectacular one I can expect numerous “you seeing this sunset?!” texts from my family and friends. But the roof is more than a perfect spot for sunsets.
It’s where I go when I want to remember how far I’ve come. From the little back corner of my roof, where you can see Emmanuel (the college I graduated from in 2012) and if you time it right – you can hear the bells ring, to the stretch of Beacon St. (that I moved up, down, along, across throughout my college years with friends), to the West End (where my parents live, as did I in between places) and all the spots in between (including the current and/or past homes of a few of my brothers and cousins).
From all the way up, you’d think it’d make you feel much smaller being in city. But to me, going up and gazing out, is a reminder of just how connected we all are and that the city really isn’t all that large, if you get to know it.