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A Single Step

A Single Step

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I live close enough to Dulles Airport that I can hear the planes taking off and landing, especially, I’m sorry to say, when windy or stormy weather requires the use of another runway. 

Until recently, though, the only way to reach the airport was by taxi or by wrangling a ride from a friend or relative. But that has changed recently. Now you can take Metro to Dulles … provided, of course, you can reach Metro. 

Which is how we came up with this crazy scheme: Today, we’ll embark on this journey of (more than) a thousand miles with a single step. We’ll walk out of the house and trek about 15 minutes to a bus stop, where we’ll board a bus that will take us to Metro, which will take us to the airport.

It seems an appropriate way to begin a trip that will rely almost solely on public transportation. But around here, it will seem pretty crazy. And that’s what makes it fun.

Home, for a Minute

Home, for a Minute

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Today is the slender filling of home in a very large travel sandwich. Tomorrow we leave for three weeks in Scotland. Was this trip planned by a madwoman? Yes, of course, and that madwoman would be me. 

So yesterday and today it’s a flurry of laundry and repacking, of settling in but not settling down, of checking lists and paring them to a sliver of their former selves. 

Tomorrow evening we take off for a country I visited once decades ago and found much to admire: castles and lochs and vistas galore. 

But before that, the dust will be flying. 

Freeze Frame

Freeze Frame

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Back home now, with only a few items missing, and none of them mine (or at least not that I’ve noticed so far), I think about what this week means to my family, the role it has begun to play. 

The toddlers, two going on three, may actually remember this summer’s trip, and if not, they will remember next year’s, I hope. The baby had a new place to crawl — actually a couple of new places, if you count the fair. The pre-teen was given a little more freedom. And the adults had a chance to reconnect and have fun. 

The months and years pass, and while this week doesn’t completely slow them down, it does freeze-frame them. And that will have to do.  

(What a difference a year makes. Photos by CCG.) 

Rosy Glow

Rosy Glow

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There are stands of ancient hemlocks in New Germany State Park, an oasis of green trails and lofty heights. A cathedral of a forest.

And then… there are the streams, and the late day sunlight slanting on them.

In some spots the light struck the creek at such an angle that it gave the water a strange, rosy glow, as if it were blushing or bleeding. As if it were lit from within.
Vacation Loop

Vacation Loop

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The sign says “End County Maintenance,” another way of saying “No Outlet.” But from the beginning I was intrigued by a break in the fence, a parting of the trees.

Last year I discovered it, and this year I’ve enjoyed it: a cut-through path, one that connects our street to the main drag of this neighborhood. 

The cut-through has created a loop walk where I thought there was none. And I’ve been strolling it this week whenever I can. 

(Not the loop walk but part of a detour, which is a vacation loop of its own.)

Baby Crawl

Baby Crawl

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On your mark, get set, go! And the babies were off and running at the Garrett County Fair Baby Crawl. 

Our entry in the race was a little more interested in socializing with her competitors than she was in winning the race. 

It took the babies in this heat quite a while to reach their moms. One of them was fast asleep and did a face plant on the green mat. As his mother said, the baby crawl was scheduled during morning nap time.  What can you expect?

In and Out

In and Out

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I write to the sound of little voices and big thuds. The house we’ve rented is one of those shaggy old cottages that spring up around lakes and beaches, perfect for several generations of a family gathering for a week or two in the summer. 

Right now the toddlers and their parents are upstairs, and I’ve hit the first floor in a rare moment of calm.

The temptation is to be with my kids and their kids every moment, but sometimes, like now, I find myself alone while chaos reigns all around. And in that moment (and sometimes it literally is just a moment), I savor the togetherness … without being a part of it. 

Quality of the Air

Quality of the Air

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Last week’s heat exploded in a series of storms that set fires, blew circuits and knocked at least one radio station off the air for a few minutes. I was in the car when Rachmaninoff’s Second Symphony suddenly went to static. 

But the result is a welcome bout of cool air, especially up here in Maryland where the family has gathered for a week of hiking, kayaking and hanging out.

For me, it’s also time to ponder the quality of air that makes this corner of the state a special place. It’s not just cooler and clearer but, at 2,000 feet of elevation, it’s closer to heaven, too.  

Scenic Hospitality

Scenic Hospitality

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I made my first trip to Florida at the age of 10. It took us three days to drive from Lexington to Miami. 

It was January. We’d left the cold behind by day two of our drive, but even so the balminess of the Florida air was a surprise. It was nighttime when we finally pulled into our motel near Biscayne Bay, and the combination of darkness and sultriness has stayed with me all these years, potent memories of a place different from any other I’d visited. 

Florida has changed drastically since then, but it retains that other-worldliness. Like the lush Northwest, Florida is its own place, and it’s a privilege to spend a week a year savoring its big sky, palm trees and sugar-sand beach. It’s a combination I’ve come to think of as scenic hospitality, and this morning, back in Virginia, I’m appreciating it all the more.

(A picket fence I walked by every morning on my way to the beach. It’s decorated with pineapples, the symbol of hospitality.)

Afterglow

Afterglow

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I felt like a commuter walking against the throng. Everyone was leaving. I had missed the sunset, one of the chief entertainments around here.

Taking myself to task as I watched the darkening sky, I wished I’d spent less time searching through the t-shirts and trinkets.

But light was lingering in the west. I could still enjoy the afterglow. Which is what I did … and what I plan to do as this beach trip becomes another beautiful memory.