December 10, 2013, Washington, DC: Snow day. Two small words that are just as exhilarating now as they were when we were kids. And this one was extra special because we hadn’t had one in full three years, perhaps since moving to Capitol Hill. We had no documentation of Barracks Row or Lincoln Park or Eastern Market blanketed in white, and the neighborhood’s under-three set — the group that feels like the fastest growing segment of our local population — had never laid eyes on more than a dusting in their lives. The last time it snowed in earnest was the epic winter of 2010, when I took photos of Annapolis’ historic streets while living there for the year. This time, I vowed to crunch through the streets I’ve since grown to love to record my first real neighborhood snow.
To be honest, it wasn’t much of a snow day. In quintessential DC style, accumulation was a non-event and the sun was out by two, leaving a few malnourished, half-dirt snowmen melting fast in slushy grass. But having the day off was a godsend, and for a few moments this morning while the flakes were still coming down, I walked down Barracks Row taking photographs of a mildly white winter wonderland.
It wasn’t much, but it was still beautiful.