colorful.

Yesterday was a big day for me. Not only did I go to the BANK, one of those mundane cluttered sort of life tasks I usually find very difficult to follow through with, but I also thought of a more convenient way, post bank, to get to my beloved Eastern Market.

The color coated metro map makes maneuvering through the district without a vehicle quite a breeze, except, of course, on the days when rally attendees clog up all forms of public transportation on a mission to restore sanity, but that's the topic of a different post. This Saturday there weren't any zealous-overly-excited-at-the-thought-of-seeing-Jon-Stewart-in-person Rally-ers in sight, and I merely needed to make it to the orange and blue line to get to the most colorful part of the city.

In my mind's eye, this District isn't a particularly eclectic place. When I think of DC, blue is the color that comes to mind, but not bright clear October sky blue. It's more dull and grayish, like the suits I ride the bus with on my way to work some mornings. But when I think of Saturdays at Eastern Market, every color of the rainbow appears in my sight. There are vendors selling jewelry, some hand made and some old costume that still smells musty like my grandmother's jewelry box. One of my favorite booths consists of vintage tablecloths, aprons, and kitchen towels from an era I've only read about and seen portrayed in movies. There are hats, photographs, clothing, in season produce and paintings; In the summer there was lemonade that's now been replaced by hot apple cider. And amongst all of this product being peddled, there's a more laid back version of DC that doesn't have to be anywhere but where they are.

I live near the red line. It's monotone, and doesn't really share it's space with another shade. It's not such a bad thing to transfer lines. It's quite easy, in fact. But not having to has been added to my list of life's simple pleasures. When I realized the bus that takes me to the bank continues on to McPherson Square, home of the orange and blue, and that I could just hop back on post boring bank visit and get to the line I needed to be, I swear I think the sky literally got brighter, and the clouds a little more billowy.

I arrived around eleven and began with my favorite cup of coffee at Peregrine espresso. Just as I was looking for a place to sit with my americano and scone during the busiest hour of the busiest day at likely the busiest coffee shop in the city, the family at the corner table were arranging their trash and dishes to leave. Did I highlight CORNER TABLE enough in the last sentence? Not having to transfer lines and a spot at the corner table on my favorite day of the week at my favorite coffee place in my favorite part of the District? Too much goodness.

I sat down and began to enjoy everything about my morning, including the two little boys sipping their beverages with their dad at the stools across from my spot. One was likely four, the other a year or so younger. The older brother was drinking a San Pellegrino Lemonata from its yellow and blue aluminum can, and the younger a Naked juice in one of those tall plastic bottles shaded by it's mango orange contents. Littler brother wanted to try bigger brother's beverage. Bigger brother clearly didn't want to share. "It's really spicy," he said. "See, it says here on the can that it's a lemon spicy drink. I really don't think you'll like it."

"But I really want to try it," was the youngest response. The dad just smiled at them, and so did I, grateful for the spicy lemon orange mango color this conversation between toddler brothers added to the spectrum of my day.