Sunday Kind of Love


It’s more of  A Sunday Kind of Love  thing for me–meandering slowly through Rock Creek Park–driving the long way home.  My mother prefers the shortcut.  She’s always taken the shortcut.  As a child–she went to summer school just to skip ahead.  She ended up graduating high school at 15.  She even finished college early.

On a day like today–I  was not taking the shortcut.  The air was sprinkled in fairy dust. Everything was sparkling, twinkling, glowing even–like someone had poured rainbows of light into light.  Over the river and through the woods we went.  I had to take the long way home.

Maybe it was the myrrh in my bathwater or the early morning  yoga nidra –colors were brighter–people were friendlier–and there were birthday suit wearing babies–Cherubim–frolicking in the Garden of Eden.  I think I even saw a unicorn.  I know I saw a butterfly–a little yellow one.  And cherry blossoms too!

Totally content in my own world of reverie–I dreamily glanced over at my mother.  With eyes  soft and closed–she was fast asleep–already home.  She had taken the shortcut.