Soft jazz guitar echos off of the buildings through the sand and snow-lined blocks around 18th Street NW because of this guy. Surprisingly soothing on this cold, grayish, yearning-for-spring day.
All it takes is a little street art to put a smile on my face. “Why hello there little man. You crossing over 17th Street NW on Pennsylvania Avenue, too? Maybe going to visit Mr. Obama? Good luck, and watch out for those cars!”
A herd of foreign-language-speaking “suits” visiting the White House, yet seeming all together unaware of its presence, makes one feel like there is maybe a little something sneaky going on. At the Spy Museum on Saturday, we learned that there are more Spies in DC, than in any other city in the world. I think I’ve caught a few on camera.
My strolling companion. Loveable from the crusties inside his nose to the cinnamon bunny cracker juice on his shirt. Any city is cooler when you see it with Mister Milo. But, we’re really partial to DC right about now.
