Chris:

Or is it old in a new place? It’s been 16 years since we moved from Virginia to California, and now we’re back. Sure, we’re older, 70s versus 50s, and sure, we’re living in a different city than we were in 2006, so yes, we’re old in a new place, discovering the many experiences this town has to offer.  Our wonderfully full, energetic years in Northern California have sparked our imaginations and sense of adventure, so now that we’ve come back to Virginia, we’re new and ready to immerse ourselves in a region where we already feel comfortable.

It feels good to be new and old at the same time.

Jean and I have this great double consciousness of life in Northern Virginia. We keep recalling roads we traveled; stores, schools, parks, and restaurants we frequented; big and small events in our former lives and in our children’s lives. The feelings come back, and we are momentarily living in the past. But almost in the same moment we wonder what that place is like now–how has it changed? does it still exist? what has replaced it?–and we get the desire to revisit and see for ourselves. 

In a few months we’ve barely scratched the surface, but already we have discovered some new destinations–the welcoming local public library, two thriving farmers markets, walking paths around small lakes, several nearby restaurants–Greek, Vietnamese/French, Southern BBQ, Peruvian–that promise to become go-to spots. Some of these are places brand new to us; others, like Lake Anne’s Washington Plaza (below) are places that we knew of in the past but are only now getting to know.

Meanwhile, places that we knew well in our former lives vary between the gone forever, the barely recognizable, and the pretty much the same. The restaurant where Jean and I had our first date? Swept away in the past couple of years by multi-story construction that still goes on. My old high school? Part of the shell remains, but it and the athletic fields around it are becoming the “Boulevard VI Mixed Use Community,” wherein the old school building (1935) shall be reconceived as–get this–“retail space.” The Little League fields where our children, now with children of their own, played exciting games and I coached? Still there and still thriving, I’m told, though when we recently tried to drive there, I realized that I’d forgotten the way.

The California Effect

Adding to the newness is the impact that our years in the West have made on how we see ourselves and this Virginia to which we have returned.  

Having lived and gardened in the dry and drier Sacramento Valley, I know that California’s famed agricultural abundance comes only through ingenious and constant planning to make miracles happen with limited water. Every day, the weather shouts at NorCal residents to pay attention to nature and humans’ role in shaping–and saving–it. So as I look back on who I was as I grew up and built a family and a career in Virginia,  I’m struck by how little attention I gave to the fragility of nature. I, and everyone I knew, just took lush greenness for granted.

Why? Because Northern Virginia is blessed with an abundance of fresh water, which pours down from the skies several times per week. Our city, Reston, features gorgeous lakes (actually reservoirs) fed by streams that meander into the Potomac River about 8 miles away. I can’t imagine anyone in the Potomac Valley taking this bounty for granted, though I blissfully did so for many years.

Now I, with my California eyes, am totally in love with this liquid largesse. I can’t take enough pictures of the small lake next to which we live. The burgeoning array of wildflowers, grasses, and trees that line the lake bank mesmerize me, as do the turtles, fish, and small mammals that thrive on, in, and beside the water. I revel in the miraculous choirs of birds, insects, and frogs that sing ’round the clock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A happy and generous rest of August to you. See you with more stories and pics in September.