Typically, Sunday mornings are a time when we sleep in. A dear and loyal friend shows up at 11 o'clock with freshly baked bread rolls and the Sunday paper. (Yes, we are very spoilt.) This means that somewhere around ten to eleven one family member has to be awake enough to make the coffee and set the table. The rest of breakfast preparations is done once our friend arrives.
This morning I decided to get up early and go for a walk before breakfast. There was fog blanketing the streets and I wrongly presumed I'd be the only person wandering around. There were signs of life everywhere: people walking their dogs, fathers pushing baby carriages, couples walking arm-in-arm, tourists getting their last look of the city before flying home. I completely forgot that I was also once a member of early Sunday society.
I think I will become a member again.