Sunday mornings have grown awfully quiet here of late. It not just that we've ended the Sunday breakfast buffet for the season. Those crowds get this place buzzing, but not til later in the morning. Early Sunday mornings are when "the boys" gather for coffee here in the bar. From May through September, they show up here around 7:30 and spend about an hour alternately ribbing, regaling, congratulating and consoling each other. They carry on a tradition that goes back to Cal Jensen's day, when the Greatest Generation guys would gather and assemble the Sunday papers for sale. Our guys just buy them, already assembled, but I'm guessing the conversations haven't changed that much.
But now they're gone, our summer people. As soon as the leaves started turning, they stowed their boats, buttoned up their cabins, and fled south. A few stuck around til October, taking in the colors, but eventually they too gave into the urge to follow the sun. These "snowbirds" left behind two or three guys who like to tough it out through the winter. Occasionally, one of them will stop in on an off-season Sunday morning, hoping another will show up, but they don't stay long. It's just not the same.