While Hanna was doing yoga this afternoon, I walked out (and up) Corey Hill. Corey Hill in Brookline is one of the neighborhoods the abuts our section of Allston, and one about which I have serious real estate envy.
I mean, the downside about Corey Hill is that, well, it's a hill. So living on it would be akin to living anywhere in San Francisco: you'd get your cardio walking to and from work every day, no problem -- whether you wanted to or not. But the upside is that they have lots of brilliant little turn-of-the-twentieth-century houses, most of which are still in pretty decent repair, and many of which have been converted into multi-unit dwellings.
I've always had a thing for photographing flights of stairs, and the Corey Hill neighborhood definitely provides ample opportunity.
Even before I moved to Boston, I liked wandering around neighborhoods that weren't my own to engage in "what if..." imaginings about the life one would have living there, or the home-making possibilities of the houses therein.
(For example, what's with the pink door below the stair?)
At the summit of Corey Hill is a public park which lends itself to sledding (the man in the black coat was a supervising adult waiting for his sprongs to return from the latest run). In July, this is a favored spot for watching Boston's city fireworks.
In addition to adorable brick cottages, there's this imposing art deco structure near the summit park, and also a few truly outstanding Victorians (I assume vestiges of the original settlements).
One of the cool things about snow is the way it makes you see color in a whole new way. Like the greens and yellows behind the row of icicles on this recessed garage...
...and the turquoise on this second-floor balcony.
While I suppose the "house" below might be a little too tiny for us, I'd like to imagine that some day -- if we stay in Boston -- our little household of two humans and two cats might be able to afford a home of our own in a neighborhood not entirely unlike this one.
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