Last night was the first true summer night of 2003. Walking through Dupont Circle on our way to the theatre,
we noticed people lounging on the grass, which lead me to believe that it was dry, which in turn lead me to believe in small miracles.
People were just congregating, spilling out of Baja Fresh and Cosi into coveted sidewalk seating, being their happy, summer, sleeveless
selves without the need to cover up with something waterproof-- there wasn't an umbrella in sight. After our hysterical, nail-biting two
hours in the national spelling bee documentary, Spellbound, we had plenty of clear, welcoming weather to loiter around in--
recounting the random details of our favorite spellers and watching Scott do his own version of a musical robot. Even when returning
home close to 1am, people were still standing out in small groups around the neighborhood, extending their nights to take advantage of
the kinder, gentler weather. B and I decided to do the same, walking up the block to our local bar for a nightcap, some catty
people-watching, and a bit of live music.
To me, clear summer nights are about spontaneity-- not having to plan a layered wardrobe or factor in extra time for slowed traffic
or finding a rare snow-plowed parking space. Summer is when walking isn't just a means to an end, but perhaps the most enjoyable
part of the an evening. And a night like last night just confirms how simple, and how sweet, this city can feel.
Today it's raining again-- but that kind of weather brings its own brand of simplicity. Sleeping in, french toast with fresh peaches,
perhaps a matinée or a museum, some quiet time with an old, forgotten blog. The spontaneity of last night encourages me
to just sink into a relaxing weekend.
Slow and simple and sweet, indeed.
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