This past weekend, in Western Massachusetts, the weather was a bit crisp and the leaves turned brighter shades of red, but we weren't around to experience it. We were down south where the air was 89 degrees and flowers were being planted on the streets (and they weren't mums!). We traveled seven hours by train to celebrate my uncles' marriage. They've been in a committed relationship for over twenty years, but in May of this year they were granted the right to become legally married. So, they did, and they scheduled a reception for this past fall weekend. Family and friends flocked south to wear glow stick crowns, drink champagne, and witness the union of two very loved people. One of the best parts? My 91 year old grandmother made the trek, and after years of advocating for gay rights (marches on Washington, leading PFLAG groups), she watched her son marry the man he loves. Needless to say, there were many drippy eyes last Saturday night.

We decided to spend Sunday and Monday touring the city. I hadn't visited since I was fifteen, and this time around, I was particularly interested in the architecture. I didn't bring my fancy camera, but I was still able to capture a bit of what felt majestic and grand. The blue, blue sky was my muse.