Boston greeted me with that special December shade of grey that makes even museums look slightly philosophical. I took a short walk around the Museum of Science, which from the outside feels less like a museum and more like a brick spaceship that landed next to a very busy road. Cars rushed by, school buses lined up, and the Charles River flowed calmly, clearly unimpressed by human ambition and architecture. Somewhere near the planetarium, a lonely dinosaur statue stared into traffic while a white bicycle, wrapped around a pole like a tragic modern art installation, silently judged us all. It was a brief walk, cold and unplanned, but exactly the kind of urban moment that makes you smile and pull your hands deeper into your pockets.