Ghosts of the Potomac

We came in slow, the river wide and still, with fog rising off the banks and the mast cutting through the quiet. The Potomac ran deep and dark beneath us. The freezing air bit into our skin. On either side, the land was full of history—old battle lines, old names, things long buried but never quite gone. The kids looked for prehistoric shark tooth fossils on the banks. We passed under bridges and power lines, past broken wharves and silent trees as we headed towards the capital of the republic.