a million moths.

started at 5 a.m. walking in the dark down 18th street with hundreds of strangers. then thousands. and in a few hours, in the national mall, hundreds of thousands. so cold people huddled on the dewy grass like newborn puppies. eyes watery, feet numb, goo running down frozen noses. so cold wind gusts burned lips and cheeks a rosy pink and left us hopping in our boots. 

off in the distance, the chants came, “fired up, ready to go! fired up, ready to go!” 

waves of people packed so tightly, you couldn’t tell where you were going, where the mass began or where it ended. people buried their faces in strangers’ backs and felt their feet rise off the pavement in the shuffle. there were soldiers in fatigues, secret service agents with ear pieces and police officers with bulletproof vests. there were people wrapped in long fur coats, blankets and garbage bags. they waived flags, trampled the lawns, climbed over cement barricades, did the wave, sang, laughed and danced. everywhere, his face was present: t-shirts, hats, pins, water bottles, banners, posters, jumbotrons. it took six hours to walk just a few blocks to reach the blue gate. but no one complained.

off in the distance, the chants came, ”o-ba-ma! o-ba-ma!”

* photo: washington dc. january 2009.