While Vermont was covered in a thin layer of snow as my plane took off last Friday morning, there was no sign of winter in Washington DC where I landed a mere hour and a half later. In fact, both the temperature and copious amounts of vibrant leaves still situated on the trees suggested that winter would not be arriving for quite some time. As we drove past the Potomac River, DC looked almost untouched from when I left it three months ago. The bridges and monuments were still covered with scaffoldings, and, as we drove through Georgetown, the houses and storefronts remained unaltered, save for a few new wreathes placed here and there in preparations for the coming holiday season. I was not expecting much to change in my short time away, because, to be honest, nothing changes quickly in DC. City council members and neighborhood associations alike take pride in the historical aesthetic of most neighborhoods in my area, and as such put in place hundreds of permits and restrictions which keep any real changes from occuring. Every once and a while a store will move down a block and a new one will take its place, but the structure of the building will always remain the same. Growing up this somewhat bothered me, but now I find it oddly comforting. No matter how many times my life changes, I can always drive through these old cobblestone streets and see the same houses I did as a child and know that in fifty years I can do the exact same.
However, the change of seasons does bring some welcomed change to the area. This change is most evident down on the waterfront, where in the summer months you can normally find kids playing in the fountain at all hours of the day. Runners and bikers constantly pass by you on their way down the Crescent Trail, and shoppers complain of the sweltering heat instead of the extreme cold. On Friday, the fountain was turned off, most likely since the first week of October when the temperature finally dipped below 80˚, and only a handful of runners could be seen. Instead, most people were up the street, hurrying across the busy Georgetown streets with loaded bags trying to get ahead of the holiday rush. At the local high schools, mine included, sports teams were beginning their annual Christmas tree sales, and young kids traded in corner lemonade stands for hot chocolate and apple cider stands. While the lawyers, business men and women, and – yes – politicians were busy typing away in their downtown offices not even ten blocks away, Georgetown seems to be taken straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie this time of year. Thanksgiving was still a few days away, but as you walked through the bustling sidewalks you could swear to hear the faint melody of Christmas carols floating out of a nearby store. This is one of my favorite things about DC. The leaves are still on the trees and the forecast does call for snow for at least four more weeks, yet people here do not care. The Christmas spirit flows through the air and infects everyone who walks through it.
My house was a nice mixture of both the permanence of Georgetown buildings and excitement of the holiday season. The tree in our front yard remained unchanged, but my front door now sported a brand new wreath my parents bought from the local farmers market. Inside my house, new decorations glittered, but it still felt the same. Walking in, I imagined it to feel different now coming from college, but it felt as if nothing had changed. It seemed like everything there had taken a pause the last few months and someone finally pressed play. My parents informed me about a few changes in the neighborhood, a German diplomat moved in across the street and the Tuckers finally fixed their broken garage door, but besides that everything remained just as I left it. With all of the uncertainty and unpredictability of college life, it was relaxing to know that home will always be a stable place to return to and recharge.