Manage This

As a kid, I spent many years growing up about a mile or so inside the Beltway in Fairfax County, Va. before there was a Beltway. Even then, in the 60s, you could hear the roar of the road in the distance, in the evening.  Now I'm about a mile outside and my son and I often hike through the wooded parkland that abuts the Beltway. It's nice land although the velocity of the water after a storm seems to scour away most of the life in the creek.

And it's lousy with deer who venture boldly out into the yards to eat your plants. We saw a sign posted in the woods the other day that said something like, "Deer Management Area" with a beginning and ending date.  That was it, except for a tiny notice in small print at the bottom, which said for more information go to www.fairfaxcounty.gov/living/animals/wildlife/archery/archery-program.htm.  Leif read it. It was a sort of "aha" moment for him.  That's what you call the "fine print" I explained. Read the fine print.

The Roar of the Beltway

When I step outside my front door each morning, I can hear the Beltway.  It's a dull roar.  It never goes away completely.  It's like background noise -- a hum, a buzz. Not unpleasant really.  I walk down to the end of my driveway and pick up the Washington Post and the New York Times and I try to thumb through them, the national and political news anyway, with my espresso roast from Beanetics. I check Google news alerts. Forward an article, perhaps.  Then I drive east toward Washington, stopping at the water, and climbing into a tall building with a view of the Potomac and the airport.