Sunday morning, Sam and I woke up before the world did, and we went for our 3 1/2 mile walk. It was so pleasant and so peaceful as we walked through our small town USA. The birds were waking up, there was an occasional dog bark or a lazy cat in a driveway staring at us. We noticed the odd abundance of a lot of really ugly caterpillar-like squirmers on the street in front of one particular house – “they must have sprayed their yard or something…”

We have a new route. We walk west, past Main street several blocks and then make our way back to Main after going south for several blocks. As we approached downtown, I began to hear a faint gospel song on some not-so-Bosey-speakers. I love that about our little town. Someone has the job of setting a station on the outdoor speakers that hang from the light poles on Main Street, probably the owner of the store that sells televisions. Sometimes you will hear classic oldies as you run into the pharmacy, sometimes you will hear the ballgame. But on Sunday early morning, it was scratchy bad speakers gospel.

We turned the corner onto Main and we walked onto a movie set. It was the eeriest feeling. Not a real movie set, but it could have been. 90’s gospel music on a scratchy speaker, a few dry leaves rustling across main street, and NOT A SOUL BUT US. No cars, no humans, no creatures. Just us and the scratchy music with a little ghost town breeze.

I mentioned to Sam that it felt like we were the last humans on earth and zombies were waiting around every corner to chase us. About a mile later, we made our way back to Main to head north, and I was breathing a sigh of relief. The church door unlocker-ers were driving to their destinations, a few farmers were heading out to the field to check on cows, and the town was joining us to welcome Sunday morning. Gospel music had turned to a local missionary sharing his adventures, and not one zombie had been spotted.

30 minutes earlier, I had been ready to hunker down and panic over bread and milk.

Funny how perspective changed so quickly.

It made me think back to Katrina’s childhood when she would take showers with the shower curtain completely open and sing at the top of her lungs, just in case sharks came up through the drain.

Not reality, but when you have a “hunker down” mindset, it’s all the reality you need to panic.

How DO you hunker down, anyway? And is there such a thing as hunkering up?

Zombies obliterated, sharks have gone to the waste water treatment plant. Everybody can hunker up now.

***

I am grateful there’s no such thing as zombies or sharks in drains.

I am grateful for scratchy speakers on Main street.

I am grateful for early Sunday morning walks.

Go donate all that bread and milk, or make french toast on a Sunday morning and be grateful for it.