We can all agree Sundays are pretty much the best, right? No need for an alarm clock and nothing but potential in the foreseeable future, the threat of Monday morning far enough away that it isn’t quite real yet.
Last Sunday in particular was lovely in the way reserved for Sundays. I’ve taken to quiet Sunday mornings, waking up when I will (or when Audrey will have me) and enjoying coffee and breakfast with CBS Sunday Morning and Meet The Press. And no, I’m not in my late sixties. It’s just nice to take my time one morning a week, to have no where rush off to.
So after the coffee cooled and the roundtables had their say, I wrapped up in a scarf to keep the Fall chill away and headed out to do more exploring on a Citibike. I rode up Broadway and got a peek at Bansky’s latest, then drifted over to Central Park, riding the full circle inside the park, from 60th up to 110th and back. I stopped when I wanted to stop, snapping photos of the trees practically radiating with Fall colors and taking in the view across the Reservoir (I’d never made it that far north in the park before!). The uphill bits of the ride weren’t as easy as I’d have liked, and by the time I got back to Columbus Circle I was flush with the exhilaration of a brisk ride in the crisp air.
With the bike docked back in its spot, I walked up Broadway with an eye for a late lunch at Nanoosh, a healthy spot that seemed fitting after my leisurely exercise. On the way, as I passed cafe diners relishing what’s likely the last weekend nice enough to eat at the tables outside, I stopped to check the marquee at Lincoln Plaza Cinemas. 12 Years A Slave happened to be starting just as I’d finish lunch, so I grabbed a ticket. More on that to come.
I made my way home after the movie, just a bit of time to spare before I planned to head out again, this time to meet a friend at Keat’s, the official gathering place for Colts fans in NYC. With Peyton Manning returning to Indy as a Bronco, even this fan-by-association knew it was a big deal and wanted to check it out. So I donned my Colts blue and headed out to beer and wings and the kind of instant camaraderie that comes with shared loyalty. I even ended up in the group photo commemorating the night.
For me, a truly great Sunday wraps up without fanfare, settled in for the night fairly early, maybe waiting on laundry to dry or cooking up what I’ll have as lunch leftovers later in the week, and generally shifting gears back into weekday mode. Last Sunday had me out a bit past my bedtime, sure. But when two days that hold so much promise actually deliver, you’re willing to make exceptions.
