DC DREAMS

Washington DC is as though a fever dream. I dream of hot, humid air that fuels further dreams.

I dream of books. The Library of Congress. A recreation of the original collection of Thomas Jefferson's books. The main main reading room. The National Archives. The foundational documents that a country's own dreams were built upon. Magna Carta. Declaration of Independence. Constitution. Bill of Rights.

I dream of art. Sculpture. Paintings. Multimedia extravaganzas. Lichtensteins and Warhols. Oldenburgs and Giacomettis. City planning. Architecture. L'Enfant. Pope. Tuscan, Ionic, Doric, Corinthian, Composite columns. Gargoyles and adornments. Mosaics. Statues, mythical and historical and both. Poseidon. Gallatin. Jackson. Washington. Lincoln.

I dream of beer. Saranac Trail Mix. Pale Ale. IPA. Amber Lager. Brown. Black Forest. Black & Tan. Capitol City Brewing. The original downtown DC location. Belgian Boysenberry. Amber Waves. Capitol Kölsch. Prohibition Porter. A Capitol Rib-eye steak, with its beer bourbon glaze to accompany.

I dream of wandering amongst monuments and memorials. Jefferson. Washington. Lincoln. World War II. Korea. Vietnam. The resting places of dead presidents. Washington. FDR. Wilson. Kennedy. The battlefields and cemeteries of dead soldiers. First Manassas. Second Manassas. Confederate. Union. Arlington National Cemetery. The Tomb of the Unknowns. The sound of cicadas drifting through deciduous trees. Magnolias.

I dream of flying six-and-one-half miles above the earth. Seattle to Washington DC. And back. The patchwork of America below. Itself dreaming.

After a week, the fever breaks. I am back in my library. Reading. Writing. Typing.