Browsed by
Category: place

Newborn Fawn

Newborn Fawn

Comments 0 Comment

On my walk this morning I spotted what I first thought was a pile of speckled leaves but which on closer examination turned out to be a newborn fawn.

The little thing was curled up in a ball and trembling, his big eyes staring up at me as I walked toward him. I kept my distance, not knowing if mama was nearby, talked to him gently, visions of The Yearling and feeding him from a bottle in mind.

This was midway through my walk, but I thought about the little guy all the way to the end of the street and back, wondering if he would still be there on my return. He was — so I called Animal Control, which informed me that mother deer often leave their babies in a “safe spot” and return from them in a few hours.

Since this “safe spot” was in clear view of passerby, I made a sign asking neighbors not to disturb him. But when I went to check on him a few minutes later, the little guy had scampered into the woods to get out of the rain.

In my rush to protect him, I forgot to snap a photo, so I found this picture online (it’s exactly what he looked like). In a few weeks, this little tyke will be ravaging my garden, but for now, all I wanted to do was take care of him.

Change of Heart

Change of Heart

Comments 0 Comment

When driving west on Interstate 66 last Monday, I thought about how many times I made that drive, countless trips from Virginia to Kentucky — all the thoughts I had, the fears I was fighting.

In later years, the trips were often in response to a health crisis for Mom or Dad, so I sought distractions wherever I could find them. The scenery out my window was embroidered with worry. But when I looked to the mountains,  I found relief.

It was that way this week, too. All of which is to say how much a change of scene can mean a change of heart.

Viva La Cite!

Viva La Cite!

Comments 0 Comment

Into my inbox this morning comes news from Jeff Speck, whose occasional newsletter I signed up for after reading one of his books on urban planning. Speck’s headline “No, Cites Aren’t Over,” was a welcome counterbalance to my own recent post “Solace of the Suburbs.”

When the question of urban density was raised at a public hearing about transit-oriented development, Speck says he reminded people that some of the countries that have best controlled for the virus are exceptionally urban ones — Japan, Korea, Hong Kong.

Also, he says, denser cities have the most patents. “Cities exist because they solve problems,” he writes. The Black Death didn’t do much to slow urbanization and was followed in short order by the Renaissance.  “So even though much of the ruling class has slipped off to their country houses a la Boccaccio, the future still lies in walkable urban places.”

I want to believe that, too.

(From the Boston Globe via Jeff Speck’s newsletter.) 

Blossoms Remembered

Blossoms Remembered

Comments 0 Comment

It’s been years since I’ve missed seeing D.C.’s famous cherry blossoms. It’s one of my own personal rites of spring — walking beneath the massed pink flowers, petals falling gently on our heads, seeing the city transformed.

There are always crowds: picnickers, photographers, little kids who stray too close to the Tidal Basin. Many people dress up for the occasion, and it’s a favorite for engagement shoots. But the clamor and craziness of it is part of the experience, as are all the times I’ve gone before with my family and with my parents years ago. Those earlier visits are with me each new year when I brave the crowds to see the blossoms again.

This year there are no tourists. Roads are blocked off discouraging congregation. Those who venture down are masked and gloved. They’re maintaining social distance.  I will not be one of them.

But I can imagine what it’s like, can take a virtual walk beneath the trees.

Solace of the Suburbs

Solace of the Suburbs

Comments 0 Comment

The title of my blog has always carried with it a faint whiff of irony. The suburbs aren’t made for walking, as anyone who’s lived in them will attest. And I’ve never hidden my mixed feelings about living in the suburbs.

However … the pandemic has reminded me of urban density, suburban space — and why we ended up with the suburbs in the first place.

People moved out of urban cores for green grass and family harmony, to stretch their legs and put some distance between themselves and their in-laws. But they also moved for their health and safety, for clean air and open space.

The suburbs have no urban buzz, no throngs surging up the avenue. But if you’re looking for social distancing, the suburbs are the right place to be.

The Walk There

The Walk There

Comments 0 Comment

From Tuesday through Thursday I attended a retreat/team-building conference held a mile or so from my former place of employment.

Work neighborhoods aren’t the same as home neighborhoods, but over time they make an impression, so the day before yesterday I took a sentimental stroll over there before my day officially began.

The soundtrack was Charlotte Church singing “When at Night I Go to Sleep,” which long ago became associated with this particular walk, especially the eastbound version of it.

It’s big, florid, sweet music, and when I hear it I remember those walks into the rising sun, the freedom I felt before I  entered the office, the fact that it always seems to be summer in my memory, pavement shimmering, folks already dragging in the heat.

I walked east on F Street, down 8th to E, then across the bridge. A major public works project was completed there in the four years since I’ve been gone, so the building looks different, more expansive. But arriving at the place wasn’t the point. It was the walk there.   

Celebrating Neighbors

Celebrating Neighbors

Comments 0 Comment

Research has proven that our moods may be lifted higher by a random conversation than by all the cajoling of a close loved one. If this is true — and I have anecdotal evidence that it is — neighbors are likely some of its greatest practitioners.

Neighbors are the ones we bump into while picking up the newspaper at the mailbox (regrettably, while wearing a bathrobe some mornings). The ones we grumble with during the fall raking season. And they are the ones whose banter may unwittingly set our day on a upward course. 
We were lucky enough to fall into a group of neighbors all relatively new to the neighborhood when we moved in. Most had young children, many had chosen this neighborhood for the big backyards and nearby woods. In a region I always thought would be transient, this neighborhood has been remarkably stable. It’s a place where people notice, where people care.

Last night we said farewell to some of our oldest, dearest neighbors. Though I’m sad to lose them, the send-off was such a celebration of neighborliness that I’m left not with sadness, but with joy.

(A Virginia neighborhood from the air.)
A Different Day

A Different Day

Comments 0 Comment

A week ago today I awoke in a tiny house in the Blue Ridge Mountains. On my to-do list: write, read, and savor the landscape. Not bad as to-do lists go.

Today’s list is looking a lot more businesslike: Editing articles, writing headlines, having meetings. It’s still not bad as to-do lists go, but it’s significantly less creative than last week’s occupations.

But how much depends on what we make of it? I write from my fifth-floor window seat (loosely construed, this term “window seat” — all it means is that my chair is pulled up close to the window) and the sun glints off the curved corner of the building next door. Leaves fly in the brisk wind, and they are gleaming too, as another day, a different day, begins.

Train Spotting

Train Spotting

Comments 0 Comment

The windows of my new office overlook the main north-south railroad line in the eastern United States. So as I conduct interviews and write articles, I keep one eye peeled for the sights and sounds of a passing freight or passenger train.

Whether it’s the Virginia Railway Express commuter line (one just zoomed by!), the quicksilver flash of an Amtrak engine heading up the Northeast Corridor, or one of the lumbering freights that seem to go on forever, I find this new pastime more than a little distracting.

Usually, the work of the day creates a vortex on the other side of the glass, and there could be a circus train chugging by and I wouldn’t have time to ogle it. But early or late, when my eyes are prone to wander … do I ever have a lot to see!

Salvation in Place

Salvation in Place

Comments 0 Comment

In his essay “Seven Days in a Sea Creature Town” in the November issue of The Sun, Poe Ballantine names periods of his writing life. There was the Diligent Typing Period, the Terrible Imitation of Southern Gothic Period and the Drunken Daydreaming Period.

By the time he was writing this essay, he was in his Geographical Salvation Period, which he defines as a belief, common among Americans, that “finding the right place to live  — someplace with a beautiful view, or nearby beaches, or casinos, or wonderful weather, or, in my case, an idyll straight out of a Normal Rockwell painting or pastoral boyhood story by Mark Twain — will solve the majority of your problems.”

Ah, I can relate. I had a “place thing” for a long time, probably still do, if you want to know the truth. One of the reasons I started this blog was to explore the concept of place in the suburbs, which can be covered fairly quickly if you listen to some folks.

One of the lessons I’ve learned here is that place is as place does. In walking we belong. And in belonging … we have place.