This morning the air is full of thick fluff. Giant flakes drift down… delicate blossoms embracing frozen streets and silent walkways.
In the storm’s grip time seems to pause… this century old neighborhood wavers between past and present. I grab my camera and set out to explore.
I make my way to Stanton Park, where other days I’d walk my dog or watch kids play. Most mornings this place bustles with running feet and shrieks of excitement. Today it stands hushed and lonesome…
guarded by the statue of Nathanael Greene, war hero and most trusted of George Washington’s generals. There he sits astride his horse, ready to seek his destiny.
Across the way, a school for children, honoring long forgotten philanthropist George Peabody.
Through flurries of snow this fortress of learning emerges like a distant memory. I muse about the children who graced its halls over 140 years. How each generation finds itself in a world in flux… like the flakes around me, dancing in swirling eddies.
I meander the streets and come upon these steps. How solid and timeless, the stone. Are these treads worn from decades of feet or is it just the snow, painting with a whimsical brush?
These places were built in the late 1800s. I look up and imagine myself back in that Victorian era.
Have these vessels adorned this window for all those decades, just to peer down at me this moment? I wonder who inhabits this place. As I ramble, almost anywhere my eye falls I see echoes of a bygone era.
Another time, I might have passed without stopping to notice. But today the snow sharpens my eyes and illuminates its little vignettes.
Like these chairs in conversation…
or this row of trees, drawn so delicately against this somber structure…
giving contrast to the wispy anarchy of the branches.
A Historic Home
A block away is the Belmont-Paul House, honoring suffragettes Alva Belmont and Alice Paul.
Built in 1800, the British torched it as they invaded during the War of 1812. In 1929, it became home to the National Woman’s Party and the struggle for equal rights for women.
The snow gathers along the iron fence and draws my notice…
as it builds little pathways for my eye to travel.
Across the street from the Belmont-Paul house stands the Supreme Court.
Court and Capitol
It’s a massive building… the adornments reflecting its power…
And facing it, the Capitol…
I let the branches frame the Statue of Freedom, standing sentry atop its dome.
From my vantage, I discover a snow salted tree beside the Library of Congress.
Another, guards the main entrance…
or is it a prehistoric creature stalking the grounds?
On my way home, one more bit of whimsy…
When she was young, my daughter called them maflingoes. I still think of them that way.
I hope you enjoyed this post. It was fun putting it together. As always, your comments are welcome.