Stay Golden
Yesterday I went on a long, intentionally slow walk, the kind of walk where I leave my camera and headphones behind and let the world speak for itself. I started at the Wharf and made my way all the way to Old Town, Virginia. No music, no distractions. I just wanted to hear life in its raw form.
As I moved slowly out of the Wharf, the air felt cleaner, cooler. Birds passed overhead, each one sending a brief sweep of cold air across my face. Leaves rustled, blades of grass whispered. Colors looked sharper. The more I walked, the more present I felt, almost as if I were tuning back into the instinctive world.
Crossing the George Mason Memorial Bridge, the constant blast of cool air made me imagine I was far out in some cold wilderness. The wind drowned out the traffic. For a moment, it felt like I was alone with whatever future awaited me. After about an hour, I reached the airport park. The rising sun warmed my back, so I sat on a bench to cool down and watch planes land and rise. After a short rest, I continued.
At the DCA walkway I found a small clearing with a tall tree glowing in a perfect orange halo. Its leaves were spectacular, like something staged but entirely natural. I stood there absorbing it. Then I continued to Dangerfield Island. No one else was there. I sat on a bench facing the water, watching planes move across the sky, shadows sliding left to right, a bald eagle gliding above the river, grass swaying in the wind. The air felt contemplative. The world and my thoughts moved effortlessly together.
After about an hour, with shadows stretching longer, I kept going, through Tide Lock Park, Rivergate Park, Oronoco Park, and into Old Town’s harbor. I found a quiet place to sit for the sunset. An older couple took the bench beside me. When the husband asked if his wife was ready to leave, she said she wanted to stay a bit longer because of how beautiful everything looked, the birds, the shifting patches of light, the sun illuminating the steel beams on the Woodrow Wilson Memorial Bridge. She told him, “It’s hard to leave.” He replied, “Take as long as you need.”
That small exchange moved me. They eventually left, but the moment stayed. There were many periods in my life when I wish I had been more present, more willing to express the same kind of care and understanding he showed her. As I reflected, I watched the last of several Double-Crested Cormorants heading to their nests for the night. Feeling a similar calling, I then began to make my way toward the Old Town Metro Center to head home.
On the way, I eventually reached King Street as evening grew. While window-shopping, I spotted a chess set and remembered a recent conversation with the Senate Chaplain about the two of us playing more often. That thought pulled me into Marmara, a Syrian-owned shop at 913 King Street, filled with beautiful artifacts. As I browsed ornate chessboards, with prices to match, I noticed three men playing in the back room. One of them rose quickly to greet me. When I commented on their game, they invited me to watch and offered tea.
As I observed, I realized the two players were beginners while the third, an elderly man, was their teacher. He guided them with a mix of care and lighthearted chiding, even as they resisted some of his advice. After a few minutes, I mentioned that I played as well, and they insisted I play the teacher. I agreed, eager to test a new opening I’d learned from a Magnus Carlsen video, pawn to e4 followed by queen to h5. It was decisive. The two younger men grinned and teased the teacher, returning the playful energy he had shown them earlier.
The games were sharp, the conversation warm, their encouragement constant. We played three games, and I managed to win all of them, but the victory mattered far less than the hospitality. They were genuinely kind, the sort of people who make a place feel like home.
Before I left, they invited me back anytime, they usually play in the mornings, they said. We exchanged goodbyes, and I walked to the station.
When I got home, I still felt the familiar sadness of missing someone who’s no longer in my life. But the day had been full of presence, real presence. And ending it with K-Pop Demon Hunters was the cherry on top.
#StayGolden
