I am still jobless and it was a beautiful, sunny day. The trees are stubbornly holding onto the last of their yellow leaves which makes a glorious contrast against the dark, wet bark. To make the most of circumstance, I forced myself outside and onto the metro. Coming up the escalator from dankness into the fresh air at the Smithsonian stop brought back a rush of nostalgia (it can still be nostalgia after just six months, right?). The last time I stopped there (it was also my first DC metro ride ever) was this summer and at the top I waited for a new friend who walked me around the Mall (that's where the monuments are). That day changed my life. I'm looking forward to someday writing about the details of that day, but not today.
Today I felt similar feelings the first time I walked through the monuments: overwhelm, awe, pride, patriotism, gratitude...just to name a few. I decided this day that one of the reasons I love this city with all of its history and charm is because everything is meaningful stated and meaningfully placed. I stared up at Abraham Lincoln, watchful over our Nation's capital, pained at the thought of that meaning degraded and overlooked. Pained again as I watched a tourist throw his cigarette butt on the ground and grind it into the street with his heel. What a poignant representation of everything that is taken for granted.
I think of the prophesied day that the Constitution will hang by a thread. Dread for that day, and yet excitement for what it will hasten.
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