Some random things:

I was driving to the rescue squad recently when I passed a truck with the license plate BIERRE. This vehicle fell behind me at the next stoplight, and then I noticed that the license plate on the car ahead of me read LIQUER. Only if you know B-ville can you appreciate what a Bethesda moment this was. I've heard that the staff of a B-ville hospital claim they can hardly make it through a weekend without seeing at least one bagel-slicing related injury. (For the record, I have never been dispatched on the ambulance for any breakfast-preparation emergency.)

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Dupont Circle Metro, September 2000

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My training regimen for fire class is beginning to reshape me. I've loaded some weights into a backpack to simulate the dreaded standpipe pack. It's only about 40 pounds, at least twenty pounds shy of the real thing, but I'm trying to be careful not to injure myself with the training. I hoist the pack to my shoulder and go up and down the stairs of the house, contributing with each trip to a trail of sweat that makes the steps slick. I can perceive the first effects of this in my shoulders, a certain bunching-up of muscle, a departure from the parallel lines of long bones that define my frame.

My morning run is up to five miles. While I remain aware of the complete ridiculousness of being a jogger, there are moments in the early mornings when I accidentally start enjoying myself. Yesterday I went to the National Cathedral, watching the spires loom closer over the treetops of the streets of Northwest DC, like something from France or Fairy Tales. The last hundred yards were up a short hill, and I thought I might myself catch fire before I could reach the cathedral. I allowed myself to stop and rest for the time my hands rested on the stone wall, then I threw myself into a sprint to begin the return trip. For a long stretch of tree-lined sidewalk the sun threw narrow spotlights down through the leaves, twisting with golden morning haze. I closed my eyes and watched the flash of light from behind my eyelids, and for a moment I felt consecrated by an unknown God.