It’s an early autumn morning. I love the slight, almost imperceptible, cool air on my face that happens each time I move. The sky is bright blue and I am warmed by the sun, and happy.
I’m in a corner of our garden, behind our greenhouse, where the raspberries love to grow. The canes, which must be 8-10 foot high, are bent over with the weight of the fruit.
I can tell that the neighbourhood sounds are different. The summer has transforming rapidly into autumn and the light, the sounds, the birds, the trees, the dying, drying plants all speak to me and remind me that nature is getting ready for its next phase.
The dog is staring up at me with her beautiful brown eyes, longingly, waiting for her portion of our late harvest of raspberries to go her way. Sometimes she gets bored of waiting and that’s when I realise my dog has lips. She delicately picks the lower, dog height raspberries off the canes, deftly avoiding any prickles.
I love that my hands are sensitive enough to pick the very ripe fruit without squashing it. Just the right amount of pull. Too much and my hands become even more red and wet. Too little and they won’t leave their birth place. I can sense that the Alexander Technique has helped me be this way. I am grateful. Breakfast is imminent.
Certified Alexander Technique Teacher