Super Sunday

Every Sunday is quiet here. People in this community go to church. have family dinners, and spend the afternoons having fun.
Today, the Sunday solemnity is especially deep. People are staying home and staying in. Everyone who was going anywhere left hours ago and have now reached their destination.

A sacred hush has fallen across the land.

It won't last, of course. There will soon be jumping and shouting and cursing heard from many homes. There will be eating and eating and eating. There will be drinking to go with the eating, and more drinking for the cursing. Dishes will be broken, windows will shatter, depending on whose team is winning and who the refs are favoring with willful blindness. There may be broken noses and there will eventually be broken automobiles and broken families.
Who cares, now, what the future holds? Who cares for the rest of the world? Who cares that the day of the Lord (for many) has become the more important day of the football? Who cares that a day of rest has become a day of frenzy? Who cares that the serenity of the evening will be broken and shattered?

It's Super Bowl Sunday, a final day of excess before winter is thrown off and natural light returns to the world.

Tonight, when the Madness has ended, I will begin to believe in Spring.