The illuminated concrete vaults and platforms of L’Enfant Plaza Metro station

Washington, D.C. · August 20–23

Field note 001 · Finished

Wherever I am,
will be home.

A first solo Metro ride, a borrowed dog named Olive, and the moment a detour became a way of life.

Geometric downtown Washington buildings against a deep blue sky — Downtown · Looking up on the first clear day

Getting here

A stop on the way became the start of something.

I came to Washington because I was getting to Raleigh without going directly there. I arrived at one in the afternoon, carrying enough for the road and no finished map for what came next.

A pin-covered world map inside the temporary home — A map waiting inside the house

An open leather suitcase packed for the road — Still learning what to carry—and what to leave

First impressions38.9072° N

The first thing I noticed was that people were living.

The city felt alive—like a smaller New York City—but even though I was downtown, the places I walked through every day carried a calm, gentle presence.

I rode the Metro by myself for the first time, and it felt liberating. As soon as I recognized that feeling, peace came over me: this was the right thing for me. I was doing exactly what I needed to do.

Field recordings · Put your headphones on

The city,
still breathing.

Two unpolished moments, kept as they happened. Press play and let the page become a place again.

01Stead ParkWashington, D.C.

02Foundry United Methodist ChurchWashington, D.C.

What I observedNotes from the sidewalk

People

Everywhere I went, I made friends: the bartender at my birthday brunch, the girl at the bar, Michael and his bright joy, my massage therapist, and the woman at the bus stop who had simply “done enough walking today.” No one felt entirely like a stranger.

Movement

People walked, scootered, and biked quickly past me. For the first time, I wasn’t the one rushing. I rode the bus and Metro alone, and the city opened. It was never too crowded or too empty. It felt possible.

Signs

I haven’t stopped seeing 333 since I began this trip. It appears inside moments that make me believe I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

From my camera rollThe details between destinations

Unplanned evidence

The things I reached for my phone to remember.

A quiet Washington intersection at dusk beneath a canopy of trees — Q Street at dusk · the city slowing down

A handmade figure holding a dog, umbrella, and lantern inside a doorway — A stranger waiting inside a doorway

The historic Hospital for Horses and Dogs sign under an evening sky — Hospital for Horses and Dogs · a neighborhood detail

Olive sitting on a sidewalk beneath a National Guard Go Home sticker — Olive, the sidewalk, and a message to power

A music poster pasted to a weathered wall covered with marks and graffiti — Music for freaks · a notice on the wall

A colorful antifascist poster pasted to a rusted street fixture — Public speech, pasted at street level

Storm clouds gathering above buildings and a crosswalk on M Street — The rain coming back over M Street

Things I keptLoose evidence from the chapter

The pocket archive

Small things that made the trip feel real.

Ticket receipt from the International Spy Museum — International Spy Museum · $3.18

A handwritten instant photograph of Olive in Washington, D.C. — Olive, held onto

A hand holding an iced coffee — Coffee for the walk

Moving field note · 01

A few seconds
still alive.

Not a polished film. Just the city moving through the exact moment I was there to notice it.

Washington, D.C. · Recorded as it happened

A tall view through the monumental concrete arches of the Washington Metro — L’Enfant Plaza · My first Metro ride alone

A moment to remember

“Fear didn’t have to make my decisions for me.”

I got on an electric bike with no experience and no real idea what I was doing. I was scared. I’m sure I looked like a fool. I did it anyway—and I was so proud of myself, and so happy to get off.

Two bicycles stored vertically in the warm light of the temporary home — Thinking about movement before I felt ready

My travel companion

Olive made a temporary place feel like home.

A borrowed dog, a new neighborhood, and proof that home doesn’t have to mean permanence. Sometimes it’s simply who looks up at you while you’re learning your way around.

Olive looking up from a red brick sidewalk

Olive standing happily on a sofa in the temporary home

Found on the homeowner’s shelf

DieWithZero

I couldn’t put it down. It came everywhere with me—on the subway, on the bus, and in my ears while I walked.

The book gave language to the life I was already choosing: not holding on to everything, not waiting until retirement, but using the health and willingness I have now to create a life of experiences.

The cost of the chapterWritten down when it happened

$537.67

Total spent across three days · $179.22 per day

Experiences$310.13

Food$149.55

Gas$40.85

Parking + transit$26.93

Drinks + coffee$10.21

“100%—when I come back, I want to do it again.”

Handwritten Washington, D.C. state field-note expense log — The original field sheet · Washington, D.C.

“I’ve decided. This is going to be my life until I visit all 50 states.”

Washington was supposed to be a stop on the way to Raleigh. Instead, it became the place where I proved I could navigate a city alone, speak to strangers and leave with friends, and try things before I felt ready.

For the first time, I wasn’t watching life happen somewhere ahead of me. I was already inside it.

Wherever I am,will be home.