What comes to mind when you think of a Sunday drive? For me, it’s thoughts of a leisurely afternoon drive where no one is in a rush to no particular destination. I think of tulips, the New Orleans Mardi Gras Fountain, and Coca-Cola.
As far back as I can remember, the Sunday drive has been a part of my life. Earliest recollections recount a spontaneous event in which my dad would announce that we were going for a ride. Dad would get behind the wheel and drive – sometimes in an intended direction, sometimes not. The afternoon trips were fun and would often take us along the New Orleans lakefront of the 1960‘s. Driving past neutral grounds planted full of flowers, we would feast our eyes on dazzling springtime tulips in every shade of the rainbow. Waves lapped against the seawall as we drove along the lakeshore, while seagulls circled and squawked overhead. Back then the Mardi Gras Fountain was in service and although it was best to observe its changing colors at night, it was still a refreshing sight. Drives to the northshore of Lake Pontchartrain found us stopping at roadside diners and having 6 oz. bottles of Cokes as the perfect refreshment from Louisiana heat.
After I married, Sunday drives with Dad became a memory as my husband became the captain of the rides. His knack for driving the family around for hours-on-end, without a specific destination, makes him the perfect Sunday driver. Whether sticking close to home or venturing farther away, he is the king of leisure driving.
Last Sunday,my husband suggested that we go somewhere – at least to take a drive. David and I hopped into the truck with our daughter for an afternoon adventure to nowhere. Not sure which direction to take, I volunteered we drive to west valley.
The break-up had begun and we rode down muddy roads discovering new places. An old farmhouse got us to thinking about what life was like for its former owners.
And the blustery wind blowing hard across this open field reminded me that March had come in like a lion.
Farther down the road, the remnants of the old Kuhn Plantation beckoned us,
as did this sign with misspellings.
Aimlessly, we drove for hours enjoying the sights and spring-like weather before returning home.
As the face of the American family has changed greatly over the years, I think the Sunday drive may be waning. Everything seems so complicated now with his, hers, and ours. Families rarely sit down together at the table for a meal, much less have Sunday dinner and then go out for a ride.
Nevertheless, I cannot imagine that the popularity of the Sunday drive will fade away as there are so many outstanding highways and bi-ways to explore.
And if you’re thinking about the price of gas, a Sunday drive with the family for an hour or two is going to be cheaper than going to the movies and buying popcorn and soft drinks.
Everywhere there are treasures to be found. Take a Sunday drive and discover them.
Marlene