Slipping into Summer

Late afternoon as I dipped my toes in the large fountain at the National Gallery Sculpture Park, I closed my eyes to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the murmur of people around me and the first notes from the live jazz band drift across the courtyard. This (to me) is Washington in summer. 

There's just something about slipping off your work shoes.

There are a few spots I love to escape to and in the often punishing summer months of our fair city, this is one of them. The cornice of the Archives building in full view, but it's shadow just out of reach. Glimpses of Calder, Paine, Bourgeois appear and fade from view amidst the tightly trimmed boxwood.

Starting a weekend out here seems almost perfect. For as much as I love having the garden almost to myself earlier in the week. Jazz in the Garden brings out melted Washingtonians in droves to perch on blankets and cast aside blazers, to linger over a glass of well queued for wine or sangria. Every piece of grass and pavement is transformed into a private party of friends and new acquaintances.