Alrighty, so, Waverley Square is at the end of the 73, being its only bus connection on weekends. Weekdays also has the 554 stopping and turning around here in its very deviatory (3.8 EDI!!!!!!!) route back to Newton Corner. So, what is it like?
Well, the station is freakin’ hideous. The salmon walls disgust me. Why are the retaining walls colored salmon red? It’s not a look that goes well here. Furthermore, they’re dirty as all hell. They could probably cover the station and turn the above area into a park and nothing of value would be lost. Well, aside from what would become copious amounts of diesel fumes. NIMBYs like to say this station is an eyesore and I’d be inclined to agree here. The stairs are covered, yes, but it’s all metal. There’s biking infrastructure. There’s also two bus shelters for the 73 and 554. Furthermore, there’s benches and wastebaskets and what appears to be a salt storage room. I’d hope, anyways, because it looks dingy as hell like the rest of the station. Did I mention this station is dingy yet? There’s also unused catenary wires above the streets. I already ranted about that in my entry on the 73. There’s some parking! The station is also inaccessible. Raise the damn platform!
The good: It’s in a walkable area! Plus the 73 is frequent enough to supplement the Fitchburg Line as a way into Boston (or more accurately, the Red Line) while taking about as long. There’s also cycling infrastructure!
The bad: The station is ugly. It’s dingy. The walls are salmon-colored. Did I mention the dinginess and salmon walls? It’s also inaccessible. Also the unused catenary at street level. Give this sucker a power wash.
Nearby points of interest: Not much, there are some local businesses but nothing stood out.
Transit connections:
Commuter Rail (Fitchburg)
MBTA bus (73, 554)
Overall, this station needs a power wash. Maybe repaint it too. Did I mention how ugly it is? It’s pretty ugly. Also, raise the platforms.
Rating: 3/10
Yes, I made an account just to defend this station :3
I will admit that Waverly might benefit from a power washing, but I disagree with your dislike of the walls.
By being walled in and lower than the surrounding area, the station becomes an isolated, chill space. The beautiful salmon pink color completes this transcendence. The sky is blue, grass is green, dirt is brown, and asphalt is dark gray. Waverly’s pink walls, by not being any of the aforementioned colors, signal that your time at this station is time spent in a completely different world: A rare pause from your non-salmon-colored reality, your obligations outlined in black and white documents, the red-vs-blue fights over your future, the dark aquamarine of the microchips that control the machines of your despair. Obscuring you from the view of Belmont’s constantly moving parts, Waverly Station takes you to a sprawling wheat field in rural Illinois, the canopy of a tropical Brazilian forest, or an untouched valley in Mongolia. The only occupants are you, the lightly-moving air, rails that stretch beyond the infinite, and a tangible feeling of relief you can’t quite place, but you know you can’t find it anywhere else. You can find shade under the bridge if you want, when you want the light to be silent and not just quiet; Antarctica and not the Sahara. The platforms are neglected by forces of evil, deemed too pure; so inconsequential and so untouchable. The leaves on the rails stay there, as do the rocks, because there’s no better place for a fragment of nature than Belmont’s enclave of serenity. Trains come through occasionally, and they come peacefully, slowing down and stopping not because they have to but because they want to. Meditation can repair even machines. Their dwell time is short but not hurried, and they leave knowing, hoping, that they’ll be back. You too will leave eventually, floating back into the corporeal in the gentlest way possible. You’ll board the next train to come, greeting it as a long-time friend, bidding your farewells to it at North Station. You won’t feel sad, because Waverly Station gave you nothing but love; love for yourself and the people who make this world feel OK. The best thing to do with love is to show it to others. You’ll find yourself buying another Zone 1 ticket, and then another. That second one is reserved for a friend, or perhaps someone even closer. Being together is the best way to be alone, and being alone is the best way to be together. You might not know the person yet, but you know just the place.
I think that’s worth more than a 3/10.