Since the kitchen project began in the middle of last month, we have been nomads crisscrossing the Potomac in search of relief from the heat and the dust. Fortunately, our friends have been incredibly generous, and we have been variously encouraged to stay with them or in an apartment in Shirlington when it is unoccupied. Each time we go back to our house to see how things are going, we are again reminded of what friendship has spared us. But while we are grateful and relieved to be temporary suburbanites, the transition has taken some getting used to.

In the Arlington-dominated metro area, Shirlington (along with Fairlington and as-yet-undiscovered lesser “lingtons” no doubt sprouting nearby) lacks a vibrant sense of identity. It seems more like an open-air mall than a community.

Its residential architecture conjures a sense of place akin to that of an area near an airport.

But on the ground level, it is clear there is something else afoot:

Most of the businesses put out water bowls, and in the evenings and on the weekends, dogs are everywhere.

Nearby, there is an off-leash dog park:

where the rules are taken very seriously

and the dogs enjoy playing in the water

Here is a view downstream with “our” apartment building in the distance:

There is also an excellent regional theater

and a library with dozens of computers and free wifi for all:

Anyone sitting outside in the “mall” can access the internet for free, a public service unknown in DC.

WETA is nearby, and the corporate masters town planners chose to honor its founder by naming the main street after her and erecting this plaque:

My initial sizing up of Shirlington as a place that appeals to the kinds of people I didn’t like in college has been tempered by greater acquaintance. The post-neutron bomb-like sterility of its architecture is still off-putting, but the public spaces and shops and restaurants attract a more diverse community than is apparent at first glance. As temporary refuges go, one could do a lot worse.