Today was a strange day.

As an introvert and a person not really into organized religion, Sunday has always been a fairly quiet day for me.

It is a day to sleep late and linger in pajamas. To stroll leisurely down side streets with the dogs, to drink champagne with pancakes and call it brunch, to take in an early movie and call it a day.

Sunday has always been a quiet day for me but today it seemed like a quiet day for the world.

The automated church bells rang and no one answered. Signs on the doors informed of remote services, while vestibules remained dark and the streets stood still.

Today was a day of reading and puzzles and napping. It was a day that moved quickly in spite of standing still.

Today was a day that clouded over by mid afternoon and threatened rain it never delivered.

A day the wind picked up and raced down the street in a howl unimpeded by cars, speaking its own truth, no human voice or agenda carried forward on it.

Today was a day the people stayed inside and nature seemed to mourn and celebrate their absence before fading to gray and welcoming in the night.