March 19, 2012, Washington, DC: In Washington we are regularly blessed with an early spring that elbows its way in past winter without asking the cold whether it minds the interruption. That’s when word gets out and the crowds arrive, tourists and marathoners jamming their way into the city like the season itself, snapping photos of cherry blossoms, running these roads, staring at the sky.
In early spring, we show this place off. We are happy to share.
In this season, we are temporarily unfazed by sneezing and watery eyes, and the need to walk our bikes through a crowded National Mall instead of pedaling. Now is the time when we see this city as our visitors do, through rose-colored glasses. Everything is pink and blooming and stunning and we are proud of our city.
Horrendous humidity will set in soon enough. For as painful as it sounds now, we’ll appreciate that, too. Come late summer, our city will clear out, politicians and tourists will go home, and this place will be quiet again. Come August, it’ll be just us, slogging slowly and deliberately through a heavy heat, dreaming of spring and of writing outside.
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