I met a young man on the Boston Common this week while he fed peanuts to pigeons. He was there, standing stock still, pigeons dripping from his arms, when I got off the train at Park Street. The sun had not yet cleared the tops of the buildings around the Common, giving everything a blue tint. Birds were everywhere. The air snapped with cold. I looked at him, pointed to my camera, and he gave me the nod to take photos.
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