Friday morning, 7:45, the city is just getting out of first gear. I sit on a small bench on the Freedom Plaza, watching the sun rise over the Capitol Building, its rays streaming down a still fairly open Pennsylvania Avenue. The sounds are automotive. I look down and see a bead, at first undetected, and then another and another. Someone's necklace broke and beads came to rest in nooks and crannies of the plaza.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
DC3 - Lost Beads
Friday morning, 7:45, the city is just getting out of first gear. I sit on a small bench on the Freedom Plaza, watching the sun rise over the Capitol Building, its rays streaming down a still fairly open Pennsylvania Avenue. The sounds are automotive. I look down and see a bead, at first undetected, and then another and another. Someone's necklace broke and beads came to rest in nooks and crannies of the plaza.
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