Baltimore

Cobblestone and brick streets, split toed shoes. My rubber encased toe caught an edge and my hands shot forward to break my fall. Luckily the morning coffee I slurped shortly before heading out enhanced those sleepy reflexes and I kept moving forward instead of face planting on the bricks.
And face down is no way to enjoy Baltimore.

"Charm City" gets a bad rap in most conversations but detractors must have had experiences far from mine. Wandering through Fell's Point and Federal Hill neighborhoods makes the moniker come to life. Second-hand bookstores, bustling pubs and bistros using crab for specialties far exceeding the ubiquitous crabcakes, long market halls full of hotdogs and fried seafood and Utz potato chips, gaslamp lit row houses. Even the touristy harbor has it's own appeal.
Sure, I'm ignoring the sirens and dilapidated houses and "The Wire" references, but so far that has not been my experience here. I'm not necessarily ignoring the problems- I would like to know more about how Baltimore is changing for better and for worse.
You can feel the excitement, the art, the cultural convergences as well as the tough past.

I like the gritty beauty.

The brick walkway surrounding the harbor winds past marinas and new condo buildings and cafes. As the Domino sugar factory grows larger its dirty windows dark, smoke billowing from stacks into the still morning sky, the bricks disappear and a rough pavement leads me to a chainlink fence by the water.
I stop to catch my breath and remember that all cities are layered with history. Some prettily constructed, some pure raw material.
Attractive red bricks may cover
the rough pebbly pavement
the leveled dirt
the fragments of the past buried deep down
but the city is stronger with each layer it builds on as long as the builders don't forget what lies underneath.

Baltimore, I look forward to delving in deeper- jagged edges, charm, and all.