Immersed in the Inauguration

Hundreds of toilets surround the Washington Monument. A couple huddles in the cold grass. They stare toward the Capitol.

At the Farragut West Metro station, a few strangers stand in long coats around a map affixed to the wall. One asks, "But where is the Red Line?"

At the White House, George W. Bush walks the South Lawn for the last time as president.

At Blair House, Barack Obama's light is on. He looks down at the White House. First Chicago. Then Pennsylvania Avenue. The Secret Service. The Media. Cameras. Graying hair.

I've lived here long enough to know that it doesn't take long to become a true Washingtonian. The tenure required to become a D.C. resident must be the shortest for any city in the country. But that's power in America. Everyone is just passing through.

The trains are running frequently now, ferrying the passengers who will fill up the cold grass, huddle in their coats and try to catch a glimpse of what has happened 55 times before to 44 different men. Into this city that is half-memorial and half-playground they have come. Tomorrow they will leave.

Then workers will dismantle the bandstands. The toilets will disappear from the Mall. Someone else will stay at Blair House or the Hay-Adams Hotel. And riders at Farragut West will still wonder where the Red Line is.

ROBERT CROTTY

Washington