A Date

We rode to the Lincoln early. Along the winding parkway trail, beneath overcast skies. Riding silently until we met a boy on a bike with a bell.  "Ding ding ding." He signaled as he passed a runner. Then a second runner.  "Ding ding ding." 

He rode slowly behind his father but I didn't pass.

"Ding ding ding."

I was captivated by the sound. 

Then another entirely different one as we passed the airport and a 900,000-pound monster roared over us. Fear, adrenaline. exhilaration. A jet plane hurtling from ground to sky right above your head never grows commonplace. 

In much the same way that the National Mall never fails to inspire. 

"Everything about the view is beautiful," I said as we stood on the steps where we ended our first date. And began our marriage. 

We walked to the back of the monument. A place most people never venture. It's quiet back there. Despite the wind. We sat there for a long time 10 years ago. I remember studying my ring. So simple. So beautiful. 

We snapped silly photos by the columns. 

And on the steps. 

Then walked to the Korean Memorial. A place interesting enough during the day but best seen at night when the soldiers float like ghosts above the ground cover. I noticed a flower hanging from a chain near the warriors. I thought the juxtaposition odd. 

Strangely, I fixated on the guns. 

I don't know why. 

On the ride home, we watched more planes. 

Then stopped to pick up bread at the Farmer's Market. 

"You're all alone," the coffee shop owner said to me from her table at the market. I pointed to where Kent was standing and told her we went on a bike ride. "Someone's home with the kids," she said. 

"Yes," I said. 

And then I thought, "We're going to have to do that more often." 

Comments

[Lea R]

big, big, big smiles