I absolutely love Sunday mornings! No matter what time of the year it is- weather it be sunny, rainy, cloudy, snowy, hot, cold, tornado-y, Sundays are always gorgeous (hehe, you see that little pun I put in there? Terrible, I know.) I've felt this way since I was just a little sapling. I remember sitting in the back of my mom's oversized suburban looking out the window as she or Dad drove us to church and thinking to myself, "My, isn't it lovely?" Sundays, to me, always have a distinct freshness to them. The air is always crisp and cool and the world is a happy place. Even this week I went to church via CTA bus and as I waited at the bus stop, I noticed an unusual calmness about the city. Sure, there were still sirens blaring in the background and taxi drivers still flipping each other off, but there was something about it being a Sunday the just made the day seem friendly.
Upon boarding the bus, I greeted the bus driver who looked like she was still waking up (yikes!) and she smiled at me. I took a seat in the middle of the bus and stared out the window like a kid watching his or her favorite show on television. I love riding the bus... for the most part. It's always such an adventure. Riding the bus is an entirely different experience than walking on the sidewalk in that from the middle of the road, you can see everything whereas when walking, the things visible to you are limited because you have to choose one side of the road to walk on. When walking, you're only able to see the other side of the road as a whole scape, but on the bus it's like a front row seat in the theater of the city. On the bus, I get to observe the city safely (Yes, I am aware that bad things happen on the bus too.) The bus I take to get to church always passes by my dear roommate's place of employment. As the bus passes I always peek through the window to see if I can see her, but I usually can't (I am not stalking; I am observing from an awkward distance.) I saw her this week though and honestly, she also looked like she was still waking up, granted it was 8:30 in the morning.
When the bus reached the church I eagerly exited the bus- not before bidding the bus driver a good day- and took in a deep breath of the chilly Sunday air. Despite the stench of stale gasoline and sewage, it smelled like Sundays have always smelled to me: crisp and fresh. After church, it still smelled the same as well as later that evening. When monday rolled around, however, the air just smelled like any other day of the week; stale, smelly, and somewhat offensive.
What does Sunday smell like to you? Is there really a difference, or is it just me?... I think there's a difference.
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