I can now say that I've been to Boston in the fall. And I liked Boston, though at times it felt like Boston did not like me.
I enjoyed getting away and exploring Boston and adding a few new states to my travelogue; I really liked Harvard and Cambridge and couldn't get enough of all of the old brick buildings and quaint independent bookstores; and along the way there were moments of hilarity, rest, solidarity, comfort, worship, and wonder, but in all actuality the trip was exhausting overall and not the carefree bohemian vacation I had hoped it would be.
The weekend was fraught with inconvenience (getting bumped from a hotel right by Fenway to one WAY out in the suburbs accessible only by a combination of subway, bus, walk, and shuttle); difficulty (cobblestone streets, while aesthetically pleasing, do not mix well with wheeled luggage), loss (my cell phone, tragically swallowed up by public transportation), aches and pains (the Freedom Trail, though interesting and quite educational, is the most exhausting 3 miles I've ever walked), and disappointing revelations ("hmm, the leaves haven't really changed here yet either.")
Thankfully, these obstacles were more or less interspersed with moments of wonder ("Hey, look at the fluke on that whale!"), scenes of beauty (an incredible sunset over Boston Harbor, the Portland Head Light shining through the fog); great people (friends of Charity's neighbors kept us for the night in Maine and raised our spirits considerably); episodes of hilarity (we discovered small town police reports are incredibly entertaining); and other surprises that made the trip worth it after all.