Spring over the city

Smoky Mountains

I have been complaining privately these last days about a rainy spring in the DC area—and far beyond, since I had exactly the same weather last week when I visited North Carolina. Sometimes rain is a supplement. That was the case then. The smoky mountains in ghostly columns of fog and low clouds hanging on the roads.

As a matter of fact, very little of my whining over the weather is due to actual impediments. My daily routine is hardly affected since I live just above a metro station, safe from the interference of the sky, and the only bad part (since I lost my umbrella two weeks ago, I still wonder how, since it was bright yellow) is the 400 yards walk between the University shuttle stop and my office or the library. April had not lived up its early promises when we had a few

Washington April 2009

fine days, enough to visit the mall by a beautiful Cherry blossom weekend: the blossoming of the many Japanese trees is anational and even international April attraction in DC. Then the grey and the rain, and chilly temperatures regain our space.

Suddenly, just yesterday, the spring came for real, or rather we happened to be moving without a warming in this heavy, hot, humid weather that is spring here, but is warmer than summers in France. All of a sudden, Arlington, the concrete canyon city where I live in the suburbs of DC, turns into a Mediterranean neighborhood. It is really Mediterranean in the sense that we have a little Arab community which enjoys the new freedom offered by the sun, but it is still more metaphorically so: people colonize the plazas at the bottom of the 20 stories buildings and the sidewalks of the numerous cafés of my area. Even the many Irish pubs around my block, for the longest time secluded in the cozy warm nest of their interior, open their doors and serve beer outside. A fountain in the little court under my balcony has been started up, and the chanting of its stream is a constant background noise. It is now “my” fountain. In the evening, and rather late at night on weekends, voices from the street echo, up to my 17^th floor.

My morning gym has been enriched too with new spectacles. The sun deck where I do my stretching has taken a new air of leisure with tables and sun chairs. The view is spectacular as always: I cannot help finding it wonderful every single day. Under the bright light of the season, the Capitol and Washington monument look still more imposing. The most interesting is a peculiar happening every morning between 9 and 10. I noticed—whether it was already the case in the winter without my noticing, or because the warmer weather allows it, I do not know—a little troop of Marines (or so I guess) exercising on the deck of a little Navy facility that is around the corner. My own modest exercise is tuned to

Marines exercizing: Click to watch the video. It is embedded in a powerpoint file that you can either download or open (then view the slideshow)

the martial rhythm of the drums—as it is the case with “my” fountain, I am amazed that echoes can go so far. I pause and watch, thinking with a sting of delight that spring is the season when watching life is just what life is about.

Hence, the photos and video of this post.