fall, with a vengence

After weeks (months) of 80+ degree temperatures, this week all of a sudden there's a chill in the air and the trees have started to turn. Summer has officially left the greater D.C. area, to be mourned by me until the leaves start to return sometime in March.

I did take advantage of the last weekend. My uncle was in town from Montana, and we spent time in Baltimore with my sister, and then took a trip to Great Falls and a surprisingly strenuous hike among the rocks lining the river.

A tour of the Capitol, a hockey game and a few other adventures followed. Now the family visit is over, fall has clearly arrived and I'm just hoping for a few good snowfalls to get me through the winter.

rain delay

Thankfully, I've managed to avoid being stuck covering any baseball games with a rain delay so far this year.

Unfortunately, tonight I'm out at a soccer game which is in its second rain delay. It's going to be a long evening.

showing its good side

This is the best time of year in D.C. - one of the only windows where the weather lends itself to appreciation rather than complaining.
The cherry blossoms have come and gone around town - not only ringing the Tidal Basin and framing the memorials, but also in yards and along the streets of the city. The pink and white blooms lasted barely more than a week before the green shoots of leaves took over, but the cherries were only the leading wave of a color assault which neatly coincides with the first days of unabashed and unrepentant sunshine, carrying with it actual warmth (but not yet accompanied by the oppressive force of humidity). As the delicate pink and white fades away, a vibrant second act of bright reds and yellows starts to take over, standing out from the now ever-present green.
As attention was diverted by the cherry blossoms, our yard transformed from a dormant, patchy rug to a plush, tall and very much alive layer of bright organic matter, pushing up (and up, and requiring mowing before drawing neighborhood complaints). The park behind our house has gone from a study in browns and sharp lines to a collage in which the nature of any one element is hidden behind the sheer visual obstacle of so many green shoots and coverings of every plant and tree in the area.

It's time to revel in the beauty of a city that normally is anything but.

nature doesn't like Earth Day

Or at least Earth Day celebrations the day before Earth Day.

Rain, rain came and stayed in D.C. Sunday. Most of the day it was an intermittent light rain, but there were enough downpour moments to make my drive downtown difficult and send people scurrying. The rain meant my initial plans for the afternoon were canceled, so I headed into the heart of the city to run a couple of errands and see if I could catch a bit of the free concerts promised on the Mall to celebrate Earth Day.

I arrived at the Mall just after one of the heavy precipitation events had ended. I was in time to watch crowds of plastic-sheathed people emerge from the neighboring museums and converge back on the grass in front of the stage erected for the day (although apparently after they'd already made the decision to cancel the rest of the show).

With the rain stopped and the ground more than soggy the Mall had an excellent vibe. Instead of the usual weekend hordes of tourists and the extra usual horde for an event, the crowd was smaller (only those people for whom getting wet and then hanging out on a soaked area of turf did not present the slightest obstacle to an enjoying afternoon). More than anything, it felt like a college afternoon - the crowd that remained skewed hippy, with a drum circle breaking out, lots of people going barefoot in the grass and an occasional wafts of fragrant smoke drifting through it all.

Admittedly, this atmosphere of being among a crowd with no real concern about time, weather or hygene (the perfect atmosphere for a lazy rainy Sunday afternoon with otherwise good weather - no wind, and just the right temperature for walking through the grass) was at its strongest later in the day. At first when I arrived, the central mass of loiterers were surrounded by people streaming away from the mall, the more-determined tourists who, having the neatly-planned event broken up by the rain, all seemed to head a block or so north to stand in line for the National Archives.

I detoured around the crowd and wandered for a moment through the National Gallery of Art. Since moving to D.C. nearly a year ago, I've been to the Galley a few times, but always for something specific. I haven't simply taken the time to wander through, and as I aimlessly (or nearly aimlessly - I did generally move in the direction of the one Leonardo da Vinci painting in the Gallery) moved through the rooms, I realized just how big the place is. It's a feeling accenutated by the layout; the main floor of the West Building alone is divided into nearly 100 rooms, all of which are relatively small and give the general feeling - if you stop aimlessly wandering and try to find a specific place or an exit - of being in a very well-decorated maze. It also serves to break up the visiting population - I'm sure there were a ton of people there, but most of the time I was the only one in whatever room I found myself in.

All day I avoided being caught outside in the real rain, instead wandering in the dry aftermath of the heavy falls, or perhaps in a little shower. Without the inconvenience of soaking-wet clothes, I found the weather mostly relaxing. The sky was overcast but the air was pleasant, both of which contributed to the general mood that as I roamed through the now-glistening city there was no responsibility to do anything else.

After I walked out of the Gallery, I saw the stage being dismantled. A few moments around a drum circle was enough for me, and on a whim I headed to the zoo. I had brought running shoes and clothes with me, so I decided the zoo would make a nice environment to discover just how poorly my muscles and lungs were working at the moment. I entered the grounds after the buildings had closed for the day but with two hours to go before the zoo itself closed. I don't know what the normal crowd for a Sunday at that time would be, but if there are normally any crowds watching the animals enclosed out of doors, the rain had chased them away. Once again, I had a place almost all to myself.

I highly recommend the zoo late on a rainy day, as long as it's not raining at the time. Most of the animals I passed were up and about, perhaps enjoying the last light of the day as well as a respite from the day's rain. The flamingos testing out the feeding options in a newly-formed puddle at the edge of their cage were not happy to see me run by, but otherwise everything there added to the very chill effect.

An effect that came to an abrupt halt when I returned home and realized I mountains of dirty dishes and laundry to deal with.

spring, springing

Last week, for the first time this year, I woke up and heard birdsong. My brain translated the song into the knowledge it would be a warm day, which it was. I couldn't quite bring myself to walk outside without a coat after four months or so of constant coat use, but I didn't need it.

The days since haven't been quite as nice (although I had a nice day of another sort this weekend, when I again went to West Virginia for a ski weekend and watched as three inches of snow fell around me). The trees are starting to bloom, however, so the one nice D.C. season - spring - is about to take hold.

ice

There are many reasons I like living in the District instead of the Maryland or Virginia suburbs. This is just one more.

From the story:

Corinne Geller of the Virginia State Police said Tuesday night that there were sheets of ice on highway ramps, and they'd have to wait until salt trucks de-ice them before vehicles could pass. They said allowing the vehicles to travel on the ramps would endanger the lives of motorists.

That meant that many Virginia drivers were stuck along the roadway for about nine hours.

News4 reported that many drivers were stuck in the Springfield Mixing Bowl from about 3 p.m. on Tuesday until about midnight.
(emphasis mine)

I heard on the radio one Virginia school bus with students was stuck in traffic until about 11:30 p.m.

I've had some frustrating traffic experiences out here. It took nearly two and a half hours to drive the 35 miles to BWI airport one afternoon, about twice as long as I'd expected. I thought that was bad enough. I can't imagine being parked on an interstate for nine hours, with my blood sugar crashing because of a missed dinner and knowing I'd have to return the other direction in seven hours or so to make work the next day.

(I drove into town for our pub quiz last night. It took me about 15 minutes to get home. And yes, my alcohol consumption was light enough for me to safely drive.)

wild stuff

On the road trip, we generally dealt with near- or below-freezing temperatures. In fact, in Illinois I managed to get in my first snow sledding for many, many years.

Back in D.C., the last few days have required a bit of a mental adjustment. I've thrown on a jacket before leaving the house, only to find myself far too warm. It's been near 70 degrees here, which has given the air an odd feel, like the city can't quite decide which season it's in.

I decided to take advantage of the balminess yesterday and headed off for a run through the park, my first in far too long - the last time I went running, there were still leaves on the trees.

This summer, one of my favorite features of our location was the park. The forested trails were cut off from the city, a quick escape into a different kind of world. With the leaves gone, so was the illusion. Houses jutted out just a few yards away, no longer hidden away. The belt of parkland was revealed to be much narrower than my mind had assumed those months ago when I repeatedly found myself lost as I was still trying to figure out the D.C. streets.

snow!

D.C.'s first snow of the year is falling as we speak I write. There's nearly an inch on the ground already, which makes the thick stand of leafless trees in the park behind my house look far better. It makes most things look far better.

Except drivers. I'm about to go out and see just how freaked out the District's car-driving populace is in the face of a few frozen water crystals falling from the sky.

As happy as I am with the snow, this isn't my first snow of the season. I got that out of the way more than a month ago during my trip to Denver. That snowfall was also far more impressive than this one, but I'm hoping this one, unlike my last, sticks around a day or two.

it's all over

So after all my rambling about the leaves, I walked outside today and realized I can see through the forested park behind my house all the way to the horizon. This is a first; the trees have turned into a bunch of sticks thrust vertically into the ground. It can only mean any redeeming qualities the local nature may have are in hibernation, and I can only look forward to the damp bleakness of the D.C. winter.

leaves

D.C. sucked me in when I first arrived back in April by greeting my stay with two months of wonderful spring conditions, including warm air, low humidity and colorful plants everywhere.

A few miserable months of summer gave me insight into why the District has a reputation for miserable weather. I hoped fall would provide another lengthy buffer zone before what I'm assured is going to be horrible wet and cold-but-rarely-freezing winter conditions. (I would far rather deal with 20 degrees and snow than 33 degrees and rain).

A few weeks have given me the fall I was looking for, but it certainly hasn't been consistent as spring. A week of hot and humid, followed by a week of nice crisp weather, followed by wet rain, back to hot, repeat. It didn't help when Daylight Savings went away, and the sun is now leaving the party in the early afternoon.

Yesterday I was out walking at about 1 p.m. and thought to myself how it was a perfect day - jacket weather with some crispness to the air, but calm and sunny. Then two hours later I was walking home in a heavy rain, and before I went to bed I looked outside to see a 30-mile-an-hour wind blowing trash up my street.

I have a feeling the nice days are going to get rarer from here on out. But we still have the lingering effect of one of the nicer aspects of the past few weeks - the trees turning.

Washington and its surroundings actually host a large number of deciduous trees, all of which have been showing off their color-changing abilities. It impressed a recent visitor from Ireland (not so many trees left on the island) and has made a few long, slow drives around the city a bit more bearable. Of course, the leaves are starting to disappear, making the journey to the ground and gutter in preparation for the miserable months ahead.

Denver, again

I got into Denver a week ago. When I landed at DIA, it was almost 80 degrees. On Sunday, I woke up to a significant snowfall - a couple inches of white carpet on the ground. It stuck, covered lawns - not just a few flakes dusting the ground. Most of the snow melted during the afternoon, but there was still a pile on the edges of Mile High during the Broncos game. There was even a brief moment late in the game when a few more flakes started to fall, which gave some energy to the crowd (even though it'd warmed up during the day, it was a cold night).

Ever since, it's been in the 60s or 70s. No winter trip here, although the snow was a nice taste of what I'm not going to get in D.C., where I'm told the winters tend to be cold, wet and gray rather than colder, crisp and snow-filled.

Not that I've taken advantage of the weather. Monday and Tuesday were spent staring at computer screens trying to get World Series tickets for the games this weekend, which turned into an exercise in frustration. So no tickets for me, unless something completely unforeseen happens. However, I will be making my way into downtown Denver to see some of the craziness and hopefully see at least one Rockies win before heading back to D.C.

it's a dry heat

We're in Montana, and the countdown has officially begun - wedding is on Saturday.

Most of the details have been planned, now it's just case of putting the plans into reality and making sure nothing fell through the cracks. People keep asking if I'm nervous - haven't really had a chance to think about it like that lately. All the details can get in the way of the big picture.

I'm mostly looking forward to seeing everybody. My family has started to arrive, and a few friends will show up on the farm before heading to Glacier. Thursday we head north to meet everyone else up at the Park and further stress about the details. Thankfully, we should have a day or two in the park afterward to decompress.

Also have to enjoy ourselves this week. The weather out here beats D.C. - it was close to 90 yesterday, but no humidity means the shade is cool. And it actually gets cooler once the sun goes down. Might hit 100 this weekend - stay out of the sun (especially if you happen to have a hangover, as I'm sure I won't at any point).

heat

Hand

Originally uploaded by slack13

The past couple of weeks D.C.'s weather has officially gone from "pleasantly sunny" to "muggy as hell."
It hasn't been as abrupt as that - the first hints of the humidity showed at times, but the next day or so the air would clear and it would just be beautifully sunny, the type of weather that cries for you to go outside and revel in it.
The last couple of days, however, the weather has turned into the type that screams at you to stay inside, and turn on the AC while you're at it. I lasted until early June before even installing our window unit (although we did break down and buy a fan a week or so earlier). Today marks the first time I have needed, and I mean needed, to turn it on two days in a row.
When Kirsten first started to complain about the sultriness of the weather, I was able to laugh it off. After all, I'd just returned from New Orleans. Nothing here in early June could compare to New Orleans (and I don't think, even now, it's reached New Orleans-in-May levels). Now, however, the New Orleans trip has worn off. Even the four years in Mississippi and time spent in New Orleans never prepared me for the onslaught of stickiness summers below the Mason-Dixon line bring. A childhood of the dehydrated air of Montana ensures my body will never accept the continual oozing of sweat from the pores. It'll only be worse, much worse, in mid-July after having a two-week humidity-free vacation in Montana.



A few weekends ago, the weather was less humid and merely brain-meltingly hot. This happened to be the weekend my brother and sister-in-law were in town before leaving the country for a Peace Corps stint. The weekend they decided it would be a good idea to walk from my house to Georgetown, then down to the mall. I wasn't prepared for a three-mile walk with the 90+ degree sun beating down, and the concrete soaking it up and then spitting it back to bake us from below.

Awakening
Originally uploaded by slack13

The next day was a little better. We drove to Hain's Point, where we watched the planes take off from National Airport and clamored about on this big silver guy trying to claw his way up out of the ground.