While waiting for the lady and her cockerpoo to show up last night, I sat (and then later reclined like Huck Finn) with Coney on the low brownstone wall outside my apartment building, just watching the sky and the people walking by. I never hang out in front of my building, but I found it really satisfying. I finally understand why people in cities sit on their stoops for hours at a time.
It's not like sitting around inside: you can look at the clouds, the treetops, you can say howdy to passersby (although most of them crossed to the other side of the street because people in Brooklyn are wary of dogs). Coney was utterly calm, just sniffing the night air, content to be home and out in the world at the same time.
Say, you: read this interesting history of yoga in the US.
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