The Joy of Waiting

The sun is up but the air feels colder. My toes are already numb; for some reason I forgot about my feet when I was packing.

We've been in line for almost two hours. The people are amazing: Janette from Mississippi with her video camera who has interviewed everyone around her and then some; Elizabeth, who's probably in her 50s, dancing to stay warm, she told the story about how people in her "conservative village" have come up to her and said: "Elizabeth, I didn't vote for him, but I am excited." The family of five from Charlottesville who drove up this morning, the three boys range from about 6 to 10. I wonder what they'll remember from this day?

We're moving closer and closer to the security screening. Screams of joy from movement belt out here and there.

Cirrus clouds are scattered about the sky with the sun breaking through. The clouds scatter the light, subtly fracturing it, sending it all over the city.

The city that had been taken over by those yearning to witness history. To be a part of the change we created.