Saturday, February 27, 2016

Pic(k) of the Week: Leaving on a jet plane

First, there was this...

Leaving on a jet plane (01)

Then, a few minutes later, there was this ...

Leaving on a jet plane (02)

It was a 'froggy' morning, that 19 November 2015, my friends, an early, drab day besotted with an insinuating damp that got deep under one's skin, like a slow driver in the fast lane, like a creamed coffee served congealed, like a skunk-stenched beer drunk warm and overpriced at a ballpark, while jet planes, on mist-begotten tarmacs, delivered anew and departed forlorn, as haze fell upon Washington National Airport, obscuring cranes stretched over Washington, D.C. —its capital monuments absent in the gloom— lurking like monstrous shadows across a swollen Potomac River, there and then gone.

Folk of a certain age still wistfully remember this airport with the name of the nation's first president (its original name), rather than that of the fortieth.

Arlington, Virginia.


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