Midday sun filters down through the leaves. Thick branches reach out in every direction and then bend low, and moss and small ferns rest on the bark. Around the roots that break through the soil and grip the ground, mottled shade spreads wide.
Step into the shade and the air cools by a layer. The breath grows longer, and shoulders that had risen come down a little. The eyes follow the far tips of the branches and then quietly lose their focus.
While that happens, a hurrying mind loses its destination. This tree has stood in the same place for a long time, and the sense that nothing changes if today runs late settles quietly over you.
Try walking one slow loop around it. Brushing the grain of the bark with your fingertips, take one breath every three steps. Three minutes is plenty.
The same steps can be moved to the night. Just before you turn off the light and lie down under the covers, stand beside the bed and look at the force of your soles pressing the floor. It is enough to check whether the heel presses harder or the area under the big toe does, and whether one foot meets the floor more deeply than the other. In place of the daytime tree, the floor of the room is holding your body.
After one loop around, the place where you first stood looks a little different. The shade is the same, though.
