When we visit our kids and grandkids in Maryland, we take the Metro to and from Reagan National Airport to Silver Spring. It’s a bit of a hassle, but we like to support public transportation.
My favorite part of the trip is watching other people, some of whom are watching us, imagining our story as we imagine theirs.
Like the family of four, girl about seven, boy about nine, clearly tourists, probably the kids’ first visit to DC. Their garishly-colored knit caps with “Washington DC” written in huge letters gave them away. They had come to what they thought would be a warm place that was freezing. What better souvenir, probably never to be worn again.
Many of the others on the train had their noses in their Kindles or i-Phones, too familiar with the scenery to notice it and instinctively knowing when the train came to their stop. Not a newspaper in sight.
We had a new Metro car on the first leg of our trip back to the airport. A shiny silver car with an unscuffed polka-dotted floor, a crystal-clear PA system, and a helpful electronic display showing all the stops.
At the airport, my joy that Boston’s spring snowstorm hadn’t cancelled our flight was only exceeded by Sadie, the Havanese bundle of canine cuddliness that climbed on to my lap while waiting for our plane to be ready.
Travel these days isn’t fun. But if you look at the glass as half-full, it’s not so bad. Probably a good lesson for life.