C-A-N-O-P-Y

 Canopy

When I returned to in-person teaching after lockdown but before the vaccine, I would come home and, before entering the house, I'd sit in my driveway on its warm, stony surface to unwind after work. A sit would become a stretch, and then a full lie down, a tree-gazing savasana. I would look up at the glittering leaves, the sunstream, and the blue sky behind and feel the caress of this entire arc of nature. My breath would adjust to the waves of breeze that would brush across the airscape and cause the branches to sway here and then there.

In the flow of time a furbaby or two from the outdoor pack would come over and lie down near me and stretch. My movements were familiar to them--for this is how they spend hours and hours every single day. They move at the pace of the plants around them, at the speed of the breeze, deliberately yet, easily.

I started to take to the driveway for daily yogic movement and lying down to gaze up at the canopy. She offered a whole new way of looking at the world and my/our presence in it. She told me that the rule of the game is established by her and it is a gentle one. Go gently. Allez doucement. 

Any runner who sits in the driveway to stretch before taking off on their run will understand how it feels like an allowance of time taken from the rest of the workout. So true of canopy-gazing, too. We have to allow time for this kind of connection to the earth around us while we are coming and going.

The driveway doesn't feel like the safest place for everyone. I couldn't recommend this to a child. What if the tree branches are loose? So wherever you feel safe, seek out the canopy and let her take you in and carry you for a little while. She's been there for decades, centuries, since the dawn of dawn.

May 10,2025 While adding this second photo (which I just took), I can't believe it's been a year since I wrote this entry (which I wrote 3 days before the 2 tornadoes hit Tallahassee!) A new entry is in order...mm.