Against a blazing red sunset through the trees in my little semi-urban neighborhood, I fell in stride with a neighbor. I was with my dog, a block's distance behind this person, so I couldn't see much detail, but I saw enough to know that none of customary reasons for an afternoon walk seemed to apply – no pet on a leash, no child on a bike, no briefcase or headphones, no jogging suit or tennis shoes, and no discernible hurry toward any particular destination.
Just a person in khaki pants, street shoes, and a coat, out for a leisurely stroll. That much isn't remarkable, but the notable thing was what happened at each corner: my stranger-friend stopped, reached arms up to the sky, folded forward, bent their knees, and reach up tall again, followed by a crescent-shaped stretch to one side and then the other. And then they carried on, presumably catching glimpses of the same dramatic sky out ahead.
Before the pandemic, I used to muse about the proliferation of yoga studios popping up on every corner, wondering how it would shake out economically and socially, wondering if yoga communities would disperse to the point of evaporation. Then Covid happened. People found endlessly creative ways to practice, and being in community took on new dimensions. Yesterday my sense of yoga on every corner also took on a new dimension, and it was the loveliest sight to see, second only to the glorious sunset in the backdrop.
~ Annie Moyer