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In the cold and despite the cold

The shuttles to the concert hall and the opera house are staying idle at the Kennedy Center, but people dance on. A flock of bluebirds have thrived in a section of the river where trails are closed off to people, bright like little blue spirits.

And the popular Barcelona Wine Bar is still popular; the best dim sum place in town reopened. They are not the same as before though. The streetscape keeps evolving responding to the call of our times: it could be a new painting that makes one think of the classic Guernica, or an old motif represented in a modern style, but all fit into a harmonic whole. It is in this that I find the city’s abundant creativity. The city is always alive and inspires.

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Back to classics

I used to love classical music and hold it dear as the Old Testament. Over time I drifted toward newer and more fashionable stuff. The Beatles looked so adorable that it’s hard not to adore them. It’s disappointing, however, to watch how they changed at some point (almost suddenly) and were no longer cute. Lately I returned to Bach and found myself in love again.

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I have never fallen out of love with these stairs at Buck Ridge, though. They seem easy today. Here I am. Almost half way up. The details of the terrain have been surveyed, and paths well made. I just need to follow the blue paint (blaze) all the way through.

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Feeling grateful and Mexican

There is a lot to thank for on this Thanksgiving.

I am still breathing, and my lungs are delivering oxygen at a saturation rate of 98% (SpO2). True, hair grows lighter, but the image in the bathroom mirror is tolerable. People say mirrors remember, which can actually be explained by the neuron mechanisms of our brain. Anyway, not a disaster yet – so long as you try not to see your classmates. And the mind is still living, with thought, and dreaming, dreaming of a utopian future, or a future utopia.

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And I live in the capital of the United States. Just imagine kicking soccer ball under lockdown, and between kicks and turns, having a quick glance at the Washington Memorial, or Lincoln, or Jefferson, at your choice of playing fields. It’s pure luxury. Consider this: I could easily be found, based on proportions of square feet, among those in some rundown industrial town or a poverty-stricken rural area where drugs are food and might have been knocked dead by a gunshot not knowing from where.

I have a job to buy my Thanksgiving meal, organic and wholesome, from the white-hot online retail juggernaut Amazon’s Wholefoods. The two shares of Testa (my first stock purchase ever, as a token support for Elon Musk’s audacious endeavors that could better the world) turned into 10 one day magically, escaping my notice, and after being quiet for a while, make waves again, and again leaving me clueless but smile at my good fortune. My landlord has not increased my rent this year – another benefit from the pandemic. I even took advantage of the crisis and J. Crew’s bankruptcy to expand my wardrobes heftily.

There has been no world war for a long time since WWII – about seven decades! I felt incredibly lucky today strolling at the Civil War Battle Field in Manassas, now an open park, where children run happily. And it felt really good walking in a summer T-shirt; the climate may be changing, perhaps for better. I have not suffered persecution of any sort so far in my life, and nobody has yelled at me “go back to China!” Somebody, an authentic American, whom I respect, sent me a Happy Thanksgiving message in the morning.

Friends with whom I have shared laughs in good times, humors when feeling mischievous, and mutual understanding (not phony flattery); it’s few in number but a precious few. Friends who have never disappeared throughout these many years; I have not sung their praises but should sing loud – these are all intelligent women, who are also generous and wise. Advisers and teachers, and life, above all, the most forceful and tenacious teacher, cunning at times.

Everyone who happened to be in my life is a blessing. A garlic mustard plant. A lighting bug. An acorn, or an autumn leaf. The moon, pale and yellow, stuck in the windowpane. And pain – pain is wealth.

It’s only befitting then to cook Mexican food and think of that legendary land of Men of Maize. Corns and black beans stir-fried with onion and pepper, sprinkled with a medley of shredded Queso Fresco, Cotija, and Monterey Jack, topped over with chopped tomato and cilantro and running eggs. Still not enough to express my gratitude, I added a sandwich with Paprika turkey breast and avocado slices layered on olive bread, and sautéed spicy green beans with garlic in a Chinese style. My final gratitude went with a sweet cake filled with raspberry paste covered by oven-toasted almond flakes, and wine-colored pomegranate seeds in a lucent glass bowl. I ate all with zest and savored each mouthful in earnest while drinking Italian sparkling mineral water from the Alps.

After all, corn, beans, squash, avocado, tomato, chili peppers, potato, and sweet potato were all first cultivated in Central and South America (between 3000BC and 7000BC). Turkey was first domesticated in south-central Mexico around 800 BC.

I had been ignorant and browsed a bit history today. Thanksgiving celebration can be traced back to a 1621 event at Plymouth, Massachusetts. Life in the New World, unfamiliar to the Pilgrims, was not rosy in the beginning, and the colonists often faced food scarcity. The 1621 Plymouth feast was prompted by a good harvest following a harsh winter; the Pilgrims celebrated the harvest with American Indians who had taught them how to grow crops and had given them food helping them get through the previous winter. George Washington marked November 26, 1789 as the first nationwide Thanksgiving. The date of observance had differed from state to state since then. In 1863 Lincoln proclaimed Thanksgiving for all states and set the final Thursday in November as the national Thanksgiving day, “explicitly in celebration of the bounties that had continued to fall on the Union and for the military successes in the war.” However, a nationwide Thanksgiving celebration became a reality only after the Civil War. In 1939 President Roosevelt shifted Thanksgiving from the last Thursday in November to the fourth Thursday to prolong Christmas shopping season, which the economic recovery from the Great Depression still needed.

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Fairyland

Tents are up in the city – a different kind this time, not for the homeless. May it look like a seclusive futuristic world, or an exotic outer space, all are inviting for an enchanting winter’s tale. Despite a rampant ongoing pandemic that has cost 262,158 lives so far and put millions of people out of work, this may well be the most fantastic holiday ever. Indeed, it has turned out to be a wonderful year, almost miraculous: Dow Jones jumped over 30,000 points, and Wall Street showered with joy. A truly historical moment, and even the President felt exultant and had to step out for a minute.

According to the US Department of Labor’s statistics, the number of unemployed persons was 5.8M in February 2020, and that number rose to 11.1M in October. The number of long-term unemployed (those jobless for 27 weeks or more) was 1.1M in February and 3.6M in October.

A high-end restaurant on the Georgetown waterfront and a favorite of DC celebrities. President Obama celebrated his 55th birthday here.

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Fourteen billion and forty percent

With 14 billion dollars, we could solve half of the global food crisis. It could be invested in the country’s domestic green energy and would increase solar panel installation by 40% among American homes – if you’d prefer a smaller, local perspective.

Well, I am not talking about President Trump’s “great wall” today – I am talking about the price tag of the 2020 election that set a new historical record.

You can check out a longer list of things $14B might do here. I suppose one does not make much of a difference.

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The lily garden and the marsh land

Summer is definitely gone. Birds gather in bare tree branches, like countless dots, sounding loud and nervous, making us – occasional passengers – feel nervous too. Geese, many of them, floating on the river, stationary as rocks – a perfect still picture. There are still lavenders in the field on the trailside – some dried grasses with tiny gray, purplish leaves examined upon close. It’s a bit surprising to see how close the lily garden is to the marsh land. You have to imagine lotus flowers now. Meanwhile, the marsh land looks much more open and quite beautiful with tall cattails shooting out brown fruity spikes between long tapering leaves – it’s a beauty of solemn sort.

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You see, the river is rich and can feed the garden to grow, but how would you expect the garden to contain a river? It’d be most unnatural to engineer the river’s free flow into a small lily pond.

My niece got married on Sunday. Almost thirty years ago returning home from college in summer, I was sitting on a bus, excited about to meet her for the first time, and anxiously wondering how her life would unfold. She has grown up to be a remarkable young woman today. After studying in Canada, she returned home and is now teaching in a prestigious private school. She loves it and works hard. I am very proud of her, and of course I want her to be happy. She does look radiant with happiness in a red Chinese dress. I have not met the guy; he looks handsome on the photo.

I wanted to celebrate the day with something fresh – I am very tired of the old stuff (Penelope’s Song sung by poets and women generations after generations and even the new Nobel Laureate has to remind us again). I visited Eastern Market but could not find flowers (Anyway, that might not be a good idea. I used to have fresh flowers all the time in the office and at home, but decided not to buy them a long while ago – those things are too fragile to fit into life). So, I went on to the Anacostia River and Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens.

But perhaps all my worries are unnecessary. I should have faith in the young generation, and I know from my teaching experience how so much better young people are and in all ways. Time may eventually deliver a solution to all the world’s problems, and we just have to wait. After all, the world is theirs.

I find these elephant paintings in Eastern Market and like them. Elephants are good animals. They are symbols of strength, wisdom, and good luck – my wishes to my niece.

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Resumes fresh and clean

After some gusty winds blew over the weekend, the city resumes fresh and clean on Monday morning. Cars and buses are running orderly. Some are still going (walking) to the office. While most of us have been hiding at home, workers have never stopped working, on construction projects, road maintenance, providing and serving us coffee, tea, and food… They are the heroes.

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Robert Lee’s 1862 Maryland campaign in the Civil War

On a warm Saturday people flock to Harpers Ferry even after fall color has long passed its peak. Most would, as I did every time, take a steep hike to Maryland Heights to get a bird’s eye view of the Western Virginian town at the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. Its natural beauty, in Thomas Jefferson’s words, is “worth a voyage across the Atlantic for.”

There are actually many trails in this small town, and you can easily make some discoveries following any of its streets on the hills.

A modern home perched high up above the river with a shiny Tesla parked in the front yard. Well-maintained stone-structured old houses. A dilapidated but once glamorous hotel overlooking the Potomac (hopefully soon to be restored to its old day grandeur). Stone stairs, part of the Appalachian trails, leading to St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church (which is almost two century old) on the edge of the cliff above the Shenandoah River, an expansive cemetery (a vantage point itself), and Loudoun Heights in Virginia (if you continue). Of course, historic armory and arsenal factory sites on the river’s bank, past efforts of flood control to protect them, and railroads that used to connect the Government’s industrial town. In its busy downtown, you are likely to be seduced by a tantalizing aroma from some eatery and indulge your sweet tooth, as I am (by a young couple’s juicy beef brisket and homemade ginger cookies).


Indeed, there is so much to take in and so many threads of thought fired up by the town’s rich history that it is hard to focus. Harpers Ferry is not only a place where the two rivers meet but also where the land is divided. Situated between Maryland, a Union state, and Virginia occupied by the Confederacy, it was deeply connected to the Civil War. The town changed hands fourteen times during the war.

Following his victory in the northern Virginia campaign (July 19 – September 1, 1862), especially the Second Battle of Bull Run in Manassas (August 29–30), Robert Lee led his army further north and launched a military campaign into Maryland in 1862 (September 19–20). Confederate General Stonewall Jackson captured the Federal garrison and arsenal in Harpers Ferry (September 12–15).

The Maryland campaign trails with more than 60 Civil War sites. Lee began moving his army from Chantilly towards Leesburg on September 3, two days after the Battle of Chantilly. On September 4, the army crossed into Maryland from Loudoun County with the main body advancing into Frederick on September 7. His goal was to reach the major Northern states of Maryland and Pennsylvania and cut off the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad line that supplied Washington, DC.

Shepherdstown in West Virginia where the last battle fought by Lee’s rear guard (September 19-20) and ended Lee’s 1862 Maryland campaign. Unlike many other WV towns, it looks quite nice today, perhaps owing to the presence of a university.
Across the Potomac in Maryland, the Antietam National Battlefield is vast and feels somber just after sunset. It was here that Lee’s Maryland campaign culminated in a bloody battle on September 17 with over 22,000 casualties incurred in a single day. On September 18, Lee ordered his troops to withdraw from the battlefield and abandoned the invasion of Maryland. President Lincoln issued the Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, granting freedom to the slaves in the Confederate States if the states would not return to the Union by January 1, 1863. This declaration changed the character of the war by making abolition of slavery an objective, in addition to preserving the Union, of the war.