Normally (or, what used to be normal), March is when nature begins to stir. The first Monday of the month, I made my normal bike commute over Memorial Bridge: The willows on the edge of West Potomac Park had broken into green over the weekend, and the hardwoods had a redness in their canopies that indicated shoots. This was ahead of schedule.
Then I went away for a week (behind a wheel for 600 miles around Texas seeing family, then another thousand miles from Boca Raton, stopping in Savannah, with my daughter back home). A day later I had a leisurely ride around town, taking in the flowers, the White House of Rick Santorum’s dreams (pictured on the right), the cherry blossoms of Kensington, and some of my favorite neighborhoods of upper Northwest.
Through the rest of March, I dallied on my way to or from work to capture the glory that is Washington in spring. Since we moved into this house six years ago, we’ve had all the cherry blossoms we need just outside our back door, but those public ones are pretty nice too.
The flickr pics are here.