On what I knew must be one of the last days of warm weather, I decided to grab a book and head down to McPherson Square, grab a bench, and read amongst the tents at OccupyDc. As I was walking down P Street, having just left my flat, in DC's Logan Circle heading towards 14th where I would hang a right toward K Street, I heard a recognizable voice coming from the patio at Logan Tavern, a nice casual restaurant. I turned to notice David Axlerod, the man perhaps most singly responsible for getting electing the current president of the United States, sitting with someone I guessed was his son. Seven minutes from where he was sitting, OccupyDC had set up camp.

It was such a beautiful blue sky indeed, and DC never gets any q

uieter than it was this day. I got incredibly lucky recording this moment in time,

with the kid leaning out his taxi cab window yelling at the encampment. Perfect.

The camp, of

course, was silent from across the street. Once inside the camp, however, only conversations could be heard. Conversations about politics, conversations about what Occupy means to this guy or that one over there. Conversations from passersby wondering if this is what they think it is and others who just wanted to overhear what everyone was else was saying about this thing they may have just stumpled upon.

Conversations.

And interviews, of course, and broadcasts and discussions and conversations and conversations about what and where and why and how and what it all might mean to him or to her or to you or to them.

Energy and activity from something happening or being done and people of various interests wanting to be a part of it in one or another. A part of this conversation.

What I most noticed was activity. Here's several more pictures I took before I ensconsed myself on the bench.