What kind of bunny was in your house this morning?
Happy Easter! Happy Passover! Or if you occupy the same spiritual camp as my big sister, Happy Pagan Daily Chicken Uterus Expulsion Day!
Her words, not mine.
I really love this time of the year in DC. It seems as though Mother Nature has woken up and is now sitting bolt upright. I was driving through Arlington yesterday morning and damn near drove off the road when I saw that the trees lining the street were suddenly soft pink pom-poms. Talk about the beauty of transformation.
I’m always amazed at how trees can hold this good of a secret all the way up until spring.
My Easter morning was fairly low-key. I opted for some introvert recharge time in lieu of attending church or staging some kind of big kid Easter Egg hunt. Truthfully, I was itching to go on a run and check the status of the cherry blossom trees over in the District. It’s a quick dart across the bridge, and the growing signs of spring give more than enough justificaiton to get moving early and experience DC in its finest season.
Living in this area is really great because there are so many running trails that loop and intersect like a runner’s shoelace. Once you kind of get the hang of what goes where and how you’d like to go, it’s really hard to get bored. You might get lost (read: your run mysteriously becomes three miles longer than you wanted), but at the end of the day, you learn something new and the scenic payoff makes the exploration worthwhile.
The early bird gets the Potomac to herself.
There’s more than one way to access the tidal basin from Virginia, and depending on my mood I’ll usually go for either Memorial or the 14th Street Bridge. This morning I opted for the less scenic 14th Street because I knew it would get me to the Jefferson Memorial more quickly. I’m selfish with my cherry blossom tourism; the less people out wandering, the better. Plus, early risers tend to be fellow introverts.
I asked the cherry blossoms if they were ready. Their response was more or less, “We’re working on it.”
The scene at the basin was pretty much as I had expected. Evaluated collectively, the sleepy buds provided only a vague blush of salmon that would make tourists suspect this whole cherry blossom thing to be a bunch of hype. Still, the morning journey could hardly be counted as a waste of time. There were no crowds to contend with, and even better, there was no noise.
No matter where you live, I’m sure some of you will count the virtues that come with getting your day started early. For me, I never get sick of waking up and running alongside the sun as it’s only just starting to crawl above the treeline. The slanting rays color everything in a kinder light, and life in general never looks more hopeful. More full of promise. This morning at the basin was no different.
It’s a full house.
After my bit of microtourism, I headed northwest and skirted the reflecting pool in order to make my way home via Memorial Bridge. As I made my way past the Korean War Memorial, I looked in surprise as I saw way more people gathered here than down at the basin. At the Lincoln Memorial, every square inch of the monument was filled with people– but the scene was just as quiet as it was by the cherry blossom trees.
From afar, my initial pagan/sarcastic thought was that they must be providing a sunrise viewing of Furious 7. Then I took off my headphones and made my way closer to the crowd.
Easter Sunday Sunrise Service
I might not be a tourist, but I didn’t know that there was an inter-denominational church that gave an Easter Sunday service each year at the Lincoln Memorial. The vibe was nice, and I lingered a bit to hear the sermon before moving on with my own tradition.
My pace really suffers at this time of year because I’m constantly stopping to snap photos.
The route home took me just over the Memorial Bridge where I could check the status of tulip bulbs that were still not ready for prime time. Their place in the technicolor cycle comes once the daffodils have done their job in announcing spring’s arrival. It really is a symphony for the eyes out here. My soundtrack, of course, is my run mix– so I pair this artistry with everything from Nick Cave to Rachid Taha. You know, church music.
My run ended as it normally does, in a rather uninspired parking lot that is close to my home and allows for a modest cooldown. On this morning, however, the completion to my run was different. As I was crossing the empty lot, my eyes caught sight of something on the ground. As I got closer, I suddenly grinned as I made out the neglected item.
While excited by my find, I was disappointed to see that my shoes were more colorful than the eggs.
You may call them someone’s forgotten breakfast– but I decree these to be bona fide Easter Eggs that the Easter Bunny left for me. What? I’ve never found anything like it on a run, nor do I think I ever will do so again. All I know is that on this early morning, I got both church and an Easter Egg hunt without even trying.
At this time of the year, this city really does give you a spring in your step.