Sodium Lights

I took a cab back from the dialysis center tonight, not because I felt bad, but because I felt like taking a cab. I lucked into a good driver, he had the windows down and he took a route that weaves through the Mall and past some of the monuments.

It rained this afternoon, and the breeze carried the scent of grass from the Mall, and I thought "this is what America smells like: grass and soil." We drove around one end of the Tidal Basin and I could see the streetlights glittering in the still water. The Jefferson Memorial was on the other side, shining like a pearl against the black sky.

As we pulled onto Independence, I remembered a very happy evening spent taking a similar drive with a friend. His words and mine echoed in my head as if they were said yesterday.

"It's not possible to look bad in Washington..." I commented as we sat at a red light. He glanced at me and said I was right. I smiled, and we looked at each other for a few seconds. "Sodium lights..." I said as he drove.

That memory is worth far more than cab fare.

before - after