Some days, you just need to get away from it all. Back when I was living in Portland, Oregon, I used to love driving. There was something about getting in the car, turning on the radio, rolling down the windows, and just driving around aimlessly that put me at ease. It didn’t matter what time of day, I’d just hop in the car and go for a drive to clear my mind.
Since moving to the East Coast, my days of random drives have been few and far between. Granted, there are significantly less people in the Washington, DC area than there are in NYC, but NYC is a city of foot travel and public transit. While also boasting a less than stellar public transit system, the DC area is by and large a travel by car kind of place. So one would assume that it would be a good place for a random drive. The problem lies in the ridiculously long “rush hour” windows. I can remember my first job once I’d settled down in the DMV (as the locals call DC, southern Maryland, and northern Virginia); it was at a law office. I decided one day that I was going to beat the morning rush into the office and be on the road before 5:30. There was so much traffic that a drive that should have been 20 minutes tops took nearly an hour. Truth be told, I’m very much not a morning person so my personal hell that morning could have been easily influenced by lack of patience for any other human being, but I’m pretty sure it was just the typical (and ridiculous) amount of traffic for any morning on the Beltway. When your morning rush hour is 4-5 hours long, it’s a sign that your infrastructure isn’t cutting it anymore.
This shot is from one of those random drives I took. I got up one morning in the middle of Summer in Portland and felt the urge to just drive. I ended up in Seaside and spent the day playing tourist and amateur photographer at all of the little shops near the promenade. It was an overcast day, which to me is the hands down perfect kind of day at the coast. It means less people to contend with and less risk that my Ginger skin will burn to a rosy, red crisp in 15-20 minutes’ time. I saw this wee chickadee land on the decorative concrete wall that separates the walkway of the promenade from the beach. He was all by himself, with dinner already caught. He was too cute to not snap, aside from said meal-in-beak.
About
Hi, I’m Krystal! I’m a freelance writer and editor originally from the West Coast who’s now living in New York City. I'm stubbornly independent and tend to talk like a sailor, but I'll try to hold my tongue. No guarantees, though.
You can learn more about me here.