The breeze blew across the river's calm. It creating a hint of a ripple as is picked up the crisp coolness that blew through my window and across my sleeping body. It was almost as sweet as waking to a gentle kiss on my bare shoulder. My eyes fluttered open and scanned their surrounds. Briefly confused and then, 'oh yes' I remembered. I was alone in a big king size bed with clean white sheets. Waking to company is always lovely, of course. Depending on the company. But, I was relishing the freedom of being sprawled out dead center.
I rolled out of bed and quietly pattered upstairs and out to the rooftop patio. It looked as though it hadn't had company in quite some time. The plants sat sun scorched and thirsty in their pots. The once bright red Adirondack chairs had faded to a dull shade of loneliness. I carefully brushed them off and moved them to the side. I rolled out my yoga mat and began to go through the motions, careful not the break the morning stillness. Even the low hum of the morning commute seemed distant.
As effortless as the river below me, my body flowed through Surya Namaskar. I repeated it again and again until my muscles responded and awakened. In my final stretch I held mountain pose. My mind focused on the strength of the bridge in front of me. A literal mountain was barely visible below its massive steel arches. The mountain seemed quaint in the wake of the Himalayas in which I had perfected these moves. It all seemed attainable. Conquerable.
Flopping my then limber body into one of the chairs, I let my eyes flutter back shut. The sun's rays had finally reached my quiet haven, warming my already flush cheeks. Orange and red dots danced across my eyelids. I sighed deeply. Ah, Portland, it's good to see you again.
Flying high in northwest India
Flying high in northwest India
