light

Twice on this trip I've looked up into the very beginnings of a sunset, where the sun is large, yellow, and blinding. The circumstances were very different.
The first one was on Sunday when I was driving in. I turned west on 495, which meant I was almost at my first stop (faster than I had remembered it taking), and "Wouldn't It Be Nice" was on the stereo, and it was one of those little bursts of happiness for no good reason.
The second was today at the Holocaust Museum. After touring the exhibit I went into the Hall of Remembrances and approached one of the narrow windows, which happened to be facing west across the Tidal Basin.

I last toured the Holocaust Museum at age 13, and I remember the big pile of shoes the most. That was what took all the horrific imagery and put it in the context of real people. Today I was kind of a wreck way before the shoes.

Would have liked to hug my kid after that.