SUN SALUTATION

I open my front door on this chilly morning. I was not expecting chilly. Usually, it is just flat out humid. I am quite suspicious of this cooler weather. It is the middle of September in the middle of Georgia and cool, calm weather during this month is not to be trusted. I am sure there is an awful storm or two waiting to hit, and there are still a few more scorching, sun-burning days left in the summer season. Summer has a way of acting as if it is angry that it must acquiesce to Fall.

The weather today, however, is welcome after last week's hurricane-turned-tropical-storm Sally. Sally dumped enough water on us that the bifurcating creeks behind my house flooded my wooded back yard. Then it pooled into the clearing just to the east side of the house and created a mini pond. Later, I was told that Park's Pond "up the way" "broke" and had something to do with my backyard flood and the newly formed pond. I am just not sure what "broke" means. All I know is that I was fascinated as I watched the water from the two creeks inch its way over the ground crawling at a visible pace to travel perhaps 50 yards within 60 minutes or so. Watching this caused me to wonder, "Do propane tanks float?" Not a question I ever asked myself while living in the city, but that's another story.

I digress as per usual. Where were we?

Okay, so . . . open front door, chilly morning.

My view from the door is blocked by my camper. I had been living in it while renovating the trailer, and it is parked right in front so I could have access to an outlet for power. Now that I am officially moved into my latest home, I need to sell the camper. Oliver is his name. However, I am so attached to Oliver, I am feeling melancholy and unsure if I am ready to let go. My camper, which has been my home for the last year, is a symbol of hope, freedom, and new beginnings for me, but that's another story.

I digress as per usual. Where were we?

Okay, so . . . camper blocking the view.

While it blocks my view of the pasture in front of my house, I notice the tree branches just to the left appear to have some sunlight dancing on the leaves. I am curious. These past few mornings have been overcast and gray since last week's storm, so this glimpse of the sun's rays is a hopeful and welcome sight.

With my friend "Cup-of-Coffee" in hand, and while I am snugly wrapped in my winter housecoat, I venture around the camper to the road/driveway I share with my one neighbor. My cat Co-Co joins me, and we head east. I know from experience if I walk just 30 yards around the bend in the road, I will have a clear view of the horizon.

My heart is optimistic with anticipation as we round the bend. My breath stops as my eyes see the beauty of this early morning sunrise.

There it is. Breathtaking. I have stopped breathing. It is so beautiful to behold that for a moment, I forget it is a Monday morning. I stand there, momentarily lost in the beauty of these natural surroundings.

Finally, I try to break myself away, but before I turn to retreat from this scene, I spontaneously raise my arm over my head and wave as if welcoming my long-lost friend. I say out loud, "WELCOME," and as I turn to head back to the house, I chuckle at my actions. "Who welcomes the sun in that manner?" I say to myself while shaking my head.

Then something occurs to me as an image from my yoga practice pops in my head. This moment causes me to think of the yoga pose called Sun Salutation . . .

AND NOW I GET IT!

I UNDERSTAND!