We arrived in Washington, D.C., on a glorious day. We parked at our favorite campground, a county park in Reston, Virginia, and listened to rain being forecast for the next day. As a result, even though we were tired from the journey north, we got in our car and headed into Washington (about 20 miles away) because the cherry blossoms are in bloom and we wanted to see them in the sun rather than the rain.
Thousands of folks thought exactly the same thing so finding a place to park was tricky. Eventually, however, we parked at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, across from the majority of the 2,000 cherry trees.
The low-lying sun warmed the blossoms with its golden light. We wandered among families and lovers, single joggers, old and young. Muslim families posed for photographs, along with Japanese and Chinese and Mexican. It was the melting pot. And it was a wondrous thing to be among all these different people after being surrounded mostly be white old folks from Michigan and Illinois while at our winter quarters in Palmetto.
We drove out of Washington in the darkness, cruising along the George Washington Parkway, glad of having made the effort.
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