I liked the ornamentation on this old building. Kind of looks like a face, huh? A mustachioed gent, perhaps, like William Howard Taft.
I spent yesterday wrestling with Blogger to add a photo to my profile. What an ordeal! Partly because Blogger was on the fritz, and partly because it took a while to find a photo and get it down to a small enough size. My friend Kevin took this one as we walked around downtown D.C. at Thanksgiving. (I'm wearing my 51-cent t-shirt!) I realize it's absurdly small, but I wanted more than just a face shot. Anyway, there I am.
My blogging pal Reya and her friends have a tradition of blogging poetry every Feb. 2. So, in solidarity, I'll leave you with one of my favorite poems, by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I've always liked its haiku-like imagery and simplicity. I once won a discount at a book store for reciting it from memory!
EEL-GRASS
No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle shells that lie and bleach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.
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