If you have moved around a lot like I did then you know there is this strange thing that happens when you move to a new city. The way it happens is entirely random and in fact may sometimes not happen at all. But if it does, you may not know it till much later. Its much like falling in love. Sometimes it’s a song. Sometimes it’s a smile, or the lapels of a jacket. And sometimes its a perfect Sunday morning.

We do like the locals and get on our bikes and head to a breakfast joint called Slim Goodie’s on Magazine Street. The streets are perfectly deserted. A warm lazy breeze. Birds are chirping. Our bikes clicking and clanking on the uneven streets. A man waves to us. He sits in front of his pastel colored shotgun house.

By the time we arrive Linus has been lulled to a slow almost sleeping slumber, resting his head on his bike seat. And rightly so. But we wake him and soon we find ourselves in the courtyard of the diner. Its sunny to a perfect degree. There is butterfly resting on a purple lilly, a little girl is chasing it. And there is music. A sweet dripping melody fills the air. Linus is mesmerized and sits still in my lap for a long time. We order sweet potato pancakes. We drink our coffee.

Then the light changes and there is now the smell of rain in the air. It’s the promise of a storm. Cool rain. Sweet thunder. We sit for a while longer. Linus claps with enthusiasm. He also feels this change. Somehow we arrived here, to this new city. The strange thing of becoming part of it, has begun.