In the muted sounds of the early morning hours of a Saturday, I strolled, sipping my latte. The gentle whirs of the occasional cars, woofing dogs, chirping birds, and the muffled conversations of passer-bys floated around me as I walked along DC's streets. In my last hours in the city, my wanderings flooded me with a joy, that I imagine, one only feels in a city that's home.
On that last Sunday, we spent hours at our Cathedral...yes, ours. Sure, it is the National Cathedral, sure people come to enjoy it from all over, some probably just as many times as us. But, it is ours. Spotting it from different corners of DC, or even from the air, we knew that there...in the distance, was our home. The magical little area where city and nature converged and gave us the best home. Those grounds, where we spent hours circling, talking, looking out at the city lights twinkling below, gazing up at the beauty towering above us. In those nooks, hide a myriad of memories. Behind those bushes live our rabbits, Jumpy, Bouncy, and The Other One. In those gardens, are herbs, some we never touched, some we stole by cell phone light after sundown. Amongst the trees surrounding the amphitheater, we found solitude from others enjoying the snow. Within those trees, we sat, looked out, and remembered for the millionth time, how lucky we are, to have all this, right here, for us. Our
In 2011, the Cathedral found itself bandaged in scaffolding after suffering severe damage from the earthquake. The dramatic effect of the cathedral has since been left affected by the presence of this scaffolding. As the years progressed, we have seen it heal, gradually. First from the inside, revealing again, the stunning stain glass windows in the nave. And now, piecemeal, outside. Recently, the scaffolding on the north transept was taken down, and this striking vision reappeared.
After a sweltering summer day in DC, there is something heavenly about lying on the Cathedral grounds while the cool midnight breeze completely swaddles you. Looking up, Cassiopeia peers down at you through the night sky. And, if you are lucky enough to be looking in the right direction, you will catch a fleeting glimpse of the Perseids shower scattering the starry sky.
It was 7 AM, when I woke up this morning. The road was damp and silent. As I lay in bed, I listened to the nest call of the Mourning Dove. The peacefulness of this early hour got me out of bed, into jeans, sweater, and a jacket, and out of the house. Sipping on a thick latte, I explored the trails in White Haven and Glover-Archbold Parks. The sound of this tiny waterfall stopped me and made me pause, listen, and smile. Sometimes, this is all you need your Sunday morning to be...
You enter Rock Creek Park. You walk to the soundtrack of gentle babbling water and the songs of insects. You meander through trees, both, standing and fallen. In the middle of the city, you get absorbed into nature.
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