My final day as a 49-year-old dawned beautifully in Boston. A blue sky accented by drifting clouds, none of which blocked the sun, was the gorgeous backdrop for our late morning ambulations. We headed to the Four Seasons, where we had a brunch echoing the wedding lunch we had fifteen years ago. Alas, that towering chocolate cake was nowhere on offer, so I decided to wait on a sweet treat.
The fragrance for the start of the day was a simple and deliciously peppery design by Jean Claude-Ellena, one of my favorite fragrance experts for the house of Frederic Malle – Angéliques Sous La Pluie. It’s informed a few Boston adventures over the years, and I welcomed the chance to make a new scent memory.
The Boston Public Garden felt fresh and vibrant, despite the late August hour – a testament to the mostly gentle summer we’ve had weather-wise. Flowers were still in bloom, and the colors were as bright as they were in June – a strange and happy circumstance.
We walked our usual path along the pond, along with others out for such a delightful day. The waterfowl were putting on a show for everyone – geese and ducks making their way in and out of the water. Squirrels playfully roamed the grassy expanses, disappearing into the trees then reappearing like little magicians.
A favorite vista.
At mid-day, the heat rose a few notches, so we made our way toward a cooling sweet treat, and the place I’d found an elusive peach ice cream last year.
Restored and rejuvenated by cream and sugar and peaches, we headed back the way we had come, but taking a different route through the Public Garden once we reached its iron-gated border.
One of the most recently renovated sections of the garden was open – this lovely fountain by the Arlington Street entrance – a restoration from the past, a step toward the future.
We walked along Newbury Street and had a couple of mocktails at the Lenox Hotel and the new Willow & Ivy restaurant there. A hotel bar provides delicious respite at the height of a summer afternoon. Andy walked to the condo while I made one more stop to procure a special gift.
Tom Ford’s ‘Oud Voyager’ – available a bit earlier than originally announced from my favorite TF contact – was my 50th birthday present to myself – because sometimes you have to be your own hero. This birthday weekend was seeding lessons I already knew but rarely employed. It was good that way, and it felt like the way things should go. When you follow the whispers of the universe, and you stop forcing things, the world shares its secrets with you – secrets of ease and comfort, secrets of calm and peace.
A sneak-sniff of this autumn’s theme, ‘Oud Voyager’ would be my fragrance for the last dinner of my 49th year. Andy ordered a fine vehicle to transport us to Prima in Charlestown, where we had secured a table in their gorgeous Rose Room. It was romantic in every sense – sumptuous and cozy, with hints of velvet opulence and lampshades whose light was softened with fringe – the ideal dining vision for the eve of 50.
Later that night, as I climbed into bed, Andy gave me his birthday present – a magnificent gold Bulova watch that I’d been eyeing for a while. It was a gift of time, and as we drove home in the night, I thought of the previous decades. My fiftieth year coincides with our twenty-fifth anniversary – meaning that I met Andy when I was only twenty-five. In all those years, the gift of time – of being together – is still the best gift.
