To say I know my neighbor would be a lie, but what I do know is his Sunday playlist is sensational. Every week I can count on him to fill up our block with the sultry sounds of timeless R&B. He does this all while socializing and sweeping up fallen Autumn leaves. A sight that reminds me of my own life. Like clock-work every weekend my mother would wake us up blasting the oldies signaling chores. Records from The Isley Brothers, Luther Vandross, Anita Baker, Champaign, Gregory Abbott, Mtume, and Heatwave to name a few would take over our home. Looking back, I never was fond of those mornings, but today I greet Sundays with admiration. I open my windows, sit on the window sill, and take it all in. For these sweet Sundays are draped in nostalgia.

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