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It's kind of creepy here in Washington, DC this morning. Eerie bright blue skies and a crispness in the air that tells you fall isn't far in the distance with it's nights of high school football and marshmallow filled hot chocolate. So, we made it through the 11th. Now what? Why is it that I still don't feel all that safe here in Washington. Everyone smiles but there is an underlying tension that we don't care to share with our neighbors or co-workers. We are living with fear. Much like our parents before us who lived through the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Legacy of the Soviet Empire, will we ever get to a point where we truly feel safe? Maybe it's a good thing we don't. That lingering doubt may be what keeps us safe in the first place. It keeps us on our toes, ever vigil, peering across dark parking lots before we walk to our car, scanning the block ahead of us and behind us as we start down a city street. Maybe fear is good. Now if I could just get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach, waiting for the next shoe to drop... I would be fine.