The shortest distance between two points is a straight line

This principle is very important to city living. Here in DC, it means that state streets are usually the best way to get from one part of town to the other.

I had many errands to run on this extremely summery day (it’s 86 as I write). Since my beloved roommate took her truck and skipped town, errands today meant walking. The first excursion was to the Safeway north of Chinatown (too far from the Metro to making utilizing the train very practical – plus they’re doing track work and it would’ve taken forever). On my journey up Massachusetts Avenue, I discovered a whole section of redeveloped DC that I didn’t know existed. High-rise apartment buildings are not my cup of tea per se, but these were sleek and attractive and made you wonder if the higher floors had a really good view of the city. I had to navigate a gaggle of bohemian hand-drummers (mostly white women) outside of Busboys & Poets. Dozens of restaurant goers were enjoying the music, the sun, and their food on the patio. I pass a chain hardware store and consider picking up some of the basil they have on their sidewalk – but I convince myself that it’s better to support local growers. I’ll have time to go to Eastern Market later.

Inside this Safeway for the first time, I immediately notice that the store is basically the polar opposite of the one Em and I have been going to since we moved into the city. Suffice to say I blend into this clientele a little easier (a LOT easier), the produce looks like it actually gets restocked more than once a month, and they actually have enough registers open to facilitate a quick check-out (!!!!). I’ve died and gone to grocery store heaven.

On my return trip, I take in the people I encounter. Many of them, like me, are local residents going about their Saturday business. I reflect on the fact that we make up a community – not traditional, of course, but smaller than a lot of people realize – and resolve to intentionally smile at them. I’m surprised by the number who smile back – many, I’m sure, because they’ve been there, under the fatigue of heavy bags and summer swelter, just trying to get the groceries home. But the point is, they do smile.

Then, an unexpected scene from the suburbs. In front of Heritage, two little boys – probably 5 and 3 – are playing in a sprinkler under their mother’s somewhat fretful eye. Each time a drop hits one of the boys, they scream bloody murder and run away. It’s so hot that I’m really tempted to join them – but unlike the suburbs, the city is crawling with cops who look out for adults exhibiting strange or disturbing behavior. So I just grin at the boys and press on.

After unloading the groceries (most importantly, getting the ice cream in the freezer so it can reconstitute before tonight), I set out on Maryland toward Eastern Market. In Stanton Park, the lawn is littered with people and their dogs lounging in the shade. Some are reading. Some were trying to read and have succumbed to sleep. Both the people and their pets seem so satisfied, so happy. On the playground, moms are trying to induce their kids to drink more water – with limited success. Many of the parents have the look on their face that says how can Johnny not be completely exhausted yet? We’ve been here for two hours! Ah, the energy inherent in the young.

The trees are big and leafy and green now, and they make wonderful arches over the residential areas of Capitol Hill. The walk is considerably cooler than the one on Massachusetts earlier in the day; a wind is rustling the leaves, and the shade actually feels somewhat close to cool. Close to my destination, a mom pushing her young daughter in a stroller is blowing bubbles as they walk. The little girl is delighted, and when she traces the source of the bubbles back to her mother, she is over the moon. (I consider for a moment that the adult mindset would say in that situation, “well, that takes all the mystery out of it.” But a child is pleased with the thing itself, and even moreso the fact that the one who is the center of their world is doing it for them. If only we remained so difficult to disenchant as adults!)

Eastern Market is bustling, as always. It’s probably the most visible evidence of anything like normal community in DC. I pick up some roasted red peppers, avocados, and some basil plants to finally round out my garden. I always love talking to the venders – they tend to be pretty cool people.

I head back to the apartment. Despite the heat, which usually makes me cranky, I can’t help but keep smiling. I guess it’s a good Saturday for straight lines… and everything in between.