I ride the Metro every morning, for those unaware, in Washington D.C., there is an extensive train system that travels underground in the city, but will often come above ground outside the formal District limits. It is quiet, clean, and though rigidly remorse in many ways, is a nice alternative to traffic.
On the Blue line between Rosslyn and the Pentagon stops, the train comes above ground as it drops folks off near Arlington National Cemetery. As the train emerged from the darkness of the tunnel, to the left I saw the Washington Monument and immediately to its left was a brilliant sunrise illuminating a wide but short string of clouds with the sun shining through a gap in the middle. It was gorgeous. And as I turned to my right I saw the orderly rows of grave markers noting the many that have sacrificed their lives for this country, the boundary of Arlington National Cemetery visible. And despite the associated sadness, there was the realization that those deaths had preserved the freedom to see the monument, the Washington and others, preserved, standing tall as a symbol of the blessing we have. The sun rising for a new day, a new beginning. A sharp contrast was the death and sacrifice on the right and the life and newness on the left.
