I lie on the shed floor and stare at the ceiling. When I started yoga I assumed I would stand in tree pose in instagrammable locations and chant “om”. Turns out yoga involves a lot of lying down.
The ceiling is tongue and groove pine planks. Dad and I built it together. We had a rhythm: size, saw, nail, repeat. I love the grain, the knots. I imagine the trees standing tall in a Finnish forest, deep in snow. The air is crisp, sparkling, alive with the brisk scent of winter pine. My mind clears.
The ceiling is tongue and groove pine planks. Dad and I built it together. We had a rhythm: size, saw, nail, repeat. I love the grain, the knots. I imagine the trees standing tall in a Finnish forest, deep in snow. The air is crisp, sparkling, alive with the brisk scent of winter pine. My mind clears.
