A river police speedboat tearing along the Potomac River on a windy, sunny, sparkling day, 2:47 p.m., April 9, 2020
I assume the "river police" here are just the U.S. Park Police.
Yesterday (Thursday, April 10th), I walked a very circuitous route into the office -- taking about 100 minutes and at least 5 miles -- that took me down and along the Potomac River from the Watergate to the SW Waterfront (as I work at nearby L'Enfant Plaza).
As I walked along the Potomac River (and the roadways and sidewalks weren't closed as they were last week), I spent the time dodging Canada goose poop in the grass and thrashing willow and Kanzan cherry blossom branches, and opting not to walk on the slim-covered rocks at the river's edge, and trying to remember the opening lines of Maya Angelou's "On the Pulse of Morning" poem.
Post-cold frontal passage, it was a surging windy, bright spring day with air temperatures around 65°F but gradually falling with cold air advection despite the calendar day. Winds were gusting in the 40 to 50-mph range. The roiled river was sparkling in the sunshine. The world still appeared mostly deserted of people in this time of the COVID-19 great lock down.
Picture of another river police speedboat along the sparkling Potomac (it was definitely not the same as the one in the lead image).
The air was filled with springtime detritus of moving things -- bits of blossom petals (especially the past-peak Kanzan), opening bud parts, grass, dust, pollen, and whatnot, the wind having dried things despite the earlier bouts of rain showers.
Regarding the above picture, the slightly off-white blossoms on this stunted little tree to me resembled, at least a bit, those of the Yoshino. However, the Yoshinos came and went 2 to 3 weeks ago -- and instead the Kanzan are just past peak.