The Pulse of Boston’s Rain-Slicked Streets
Boston stirred awake beneath a sky heavy with the promise of rain. The morning air was cool, carrying with it the faint saltiness of the Atlantic and the earthy scent of damp cobblestones. The temperature lingered at 50°F (10°C), with a forecasted high of 58°F (14°C) and a low of 46°F (8°C) by nightfall. The clouds hung low, their gray underbellies pregnant with moisture, and the wind, though gentle, carried a bite that hinted at the lingering chill of early spring. The weather app had warned of rain, and by midmorning, the city would be draped in a steady drizzle, the kind that soaked through jackets and turned umbrellas inside out. In the North End, Boston’s historic Italian enclave, the day began slowly. The narrow streets, lined with red-brick buildings and wrought-iron fire escapes, were slick with the morning’s mist. At Mike’s Pastry, the scent of cannoli and espresso wafted through the air, drawing in early risers seeking warmth and sweetness. The shop’s glass cases were f...