This slideshow requires JavaScript.
by Laura
Forget Paris in springtime – although I always think that DC is a pretty city, nothing beats the scenery around the Jefferson Memorial during the Cherry Blossom Festival, enjoyed during newly warm and sunny weather. I first read about the blossoms as a little girl, and have wanted to go ever since but somehow always missed the chance to see them in person. This week, I was determined to take advantage of the timing of an April job interview in DC and sneak down to the Tidal Basin in between transporting myself to and from North Carolina.
I know regular DC residents are probably less enthused about the blossoms once they’ve pushed through crowds of tourists to see pink flowers for the twentieth time, but I didn’t mind being one of those picture-snapping visitors. As I made my way across the Mall, I decided to take a quick detour and stop by the Lincoln Memorial. I remembered one night in the summer of 2000, when my friend Ashley and I decided to see the monuments lit up in the darkness. We ended at the Memorial steps deep in conversation until we sleepily made our way to the road and managed to hail down a cab driver coming across the bridge from Virginia. That summer was one of my favorites, with most of my friends stuffed into suits for the first time, eager interns in real grown-up offices. The last time I’d been to the Memorial, it was 2009, and Bono and a host of other stars were putting on a pre-inaguration concert for Obama and thousands of ecstatic Dubya haters.
It’s no wonder that there’s something about DC that always makes me feel one part inspired, one part nostalgic. Score one for our nation’s Capitol!
Laura
Harold
