I am thinking of taking a yoga class. And yoga is not my cup of tea; if I find out it will take too much time to get there or it's at an inconvenient time, forget it.What is attracting me to this yoga class is that it's laughing yoga; and besides being the best medicine, it sounds like fun. Doesn't it?
Years ago, I worked at the farm in eastern Long Island. It was just behind our house; I could just roll out of bed and be there. At the farm's fruit stand this one summer, worked a girl who was quite cute. She had a short haircut, dark eyes and an unbelievably warm, inviting laugh.
When I told her how much I liked her laugh, she told me that I should hear her sister.
The summer passed, the fruit season ended and when the other "summer people" left, she moved to Vermont to live with her laughing sister.
Well, the story could have ended here but I decided to take a car trip to see her, my longest then except for the one to Buffalo and Niagara Falls to see my brother in college.
I felt like the racing car hero in A Man and a Woman who drove across France to spend a short night with his love. It was winter, there was snow, I drove on highways voted the most scenic in America. The trip was a joy.
Beside having a great time in Vermont, I met the sister and heard her laugh. It was shear beauty. One of her college professors had told her she laughed chromatically. Yes, it hit half notes up and down with gentle timbre. I wish you could hear it, just once. Clean as a child laughing on a lazy afternoon, it was.
In a couple days my laugh had changed too. It was like picking up an accent. But I returned home and after a while, like a borrowed Southern drawl on Brooklyn streets, my quality of laughter melted away.
Now, if the laughing sister were teaching this yoga class, or even in it, I would so sign up, even if it were way up in Vermont. I want to laugh like that again. click these photos to visit their home sites.
(The photo of the pretty, young woman is not the girl I knew but a stunt double).
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