and a sunday

Image credited to New York Public Library

Image credited to New York Public Library

This morning I went to the Buddhist Temple down a dirt road not far from my house.  A yoga class is held at the outdoor temple Sunday mornings.  The temple is an all white structure, with simple columns, white tiled floor, and a white ceiling overhead.  On this particular morning, Lucy leads a class for the 5 of us in front of a small white smiling statue of buddha who holds orange marigolds in his lap.  We stretch and meditate on colorful mats as cool moisture whips by in a breeze from an overcast sky above.

Peacocks hop up on the ledge of the temple, scurrying along its edge while honking and squawking.  Dogs bark and planes fly over head.  Somehow, I manage, and I hope the others do too, not to be too irritated by these noises.  We seal in our practice and as I open my eyes to buddha in front of me, I catch out of the corner of my eye a shimmering male peacock on full display.

This fella put new meaning to the phrase “shake your tail feathers” from old soul music.  His long brilliant feathers reached in all directions and curved around him a bit like a satellite dish.  Behind this display he had dark grey feathers and tan wings.  He shook them faster than a booty dancer in da club while a female flirted around him.

Across from the strutting peacock stands a bodhi tree.  Five white steps lead up to an elevated square patch of grass and the tree grows out of it, filled with rounded, almost heart shaped green leaves that dangle a little like the leaves of a quaking aspen.  The story, as it was told to me, is that the Sri Lankan family that owns the property of the Buddhist Association brought a cutting of it from their tree back home.  In Sri Lanka they have a tree that was grown from a cutting or a seed of the bodhi tree under which Gautama Buddha sat as he was enlightened.  Maybe it’s true.

We head back home, buying some fruit and veg at the store.  Home garden plans are in the works, so hopefully grocery expenditures will decrease before long.  I’ll tell you one thang: a juicer allows fruit and veg to disappear quite rapidly.  I laze around for the rest of the day, enjoying the coolness and rain.  I learn to use a sewing machine and wonder how in the world little old ladies manage to thread the needle when it comes out all the damn time.  Ah ha… with time, I’ll get the hang of it.

Image courtesy of German National Archive, creative commons

Image courtesy of German National Archive, creative commons

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