Each day on my commute home, I drive on Washington Boulevard, the street that runs alongside the Pentagon mere yards from the spot where it was struck by the hijacked plane on September 11. I’ve watched it being rebuilt day by day from a stone’s throw away. It’s sobering to make that drive everyday and remember not only the day that someone I knew was killed aboard that plane, but to know that it happened only a few moments away from my own home.
But this winter, something else appeared on my daily commute: geese. A large gaggle of geese have taken up residence about 1/4 mile from the Pentagon on either side of the road. It’s such a happy sight, rounding the curve from the Memorial Bridge and seeing all the geese, huddled together on the shoulders, wandering through the grass, sleeping, watching the cars. It’s amazingly cheering to end my work day this way, and I always call out to them as I drive by, like a happy child: “Hello, geeses!” I will miss them when spring arrives.
