Monuments at Night

Last night, a tour of the Washington, D.C., monuments at night. There was Lincoln, the great man's right foot protruding slightly, as if he were about to push himself up and walk out to greet the beleaguered citizens gathered there.

What would he say? What could he say? Seeing him made me long for a statesman or stateswoman, someone larger than life who will come to save us all, who will do the right thing no matter the political consequences.

The scale of the monuments only grows in the darkness. Darkness is what we had last night — a rich, warm darkness that meant we could stroll around in shirt sleeves the second week of October. But darkness is what we have in a metaphorical sense, too. And that darkness isn't as comfortable.

I took heart from the lights and the sounds, the throngs of people staying up late to see the marble and the fountains, those who — I hope — still believe.