Rising morning sun, I greet you. Singing morning birds, I thank you. Gentle cooling breeze, I welcome you. Great and mighty tree, I hang from you.
Predators may lurk jungle below, but our ways are higher in the trees. Our ways are touched with cooling breeze. Our ways invisible in the leaves. Our ways are blessed in peaceful flow. Our ways are blessed with S-O-U-L.
Yinney finished singing his morning song. Time was flying by and it was now day six in his search for his 7th Day Tree, which would become the orbit of his life, the center of his purpose. He had a good feeling about today. Sloths normally did not travel nearly so much. Once his tree was found, life could slow down even more. Time may be quickly passing, but he stayed in the beauty of slow.
He had spent several hours meditating about the Predator Cities Lu-Lu had told him of. That was a couple days ago, but he had not been able to get it off his mind. This was important. Not to be feared, but to be aware. It’s always good to be aware.
Today he chose a very tall tree to sing his morning song. He climbed very high. He wanted to see if he saw any signs of this race of people known as man. These people had no love for slow. They saw no glow in slow to be desired. What Lu-Lu described was very evil in its’ hungry ways. If these predators came to his jungle, all would be in danger, even Jag!
A sloth’s vision is not very good, but as he stared out as far as he could, all looked normal, no sign of a new danger today. With his mind satisfied, and having sang his morning song, he was ready to find his tree! Today he hoped would be the day! It would not be wise to still be searching tomorrow, for the urge could hit at any time, and then what would he do? He would need to poo!
As Yinney took one last look around, everything upside down, he thought he saw something reflecting through the tangle of jungle below, and it was not far away. Could he get to the reflection today? He rotated his head to see right-side up, but seeing things right-side up always gave him a headache, so he soon rotated back to his topsy-turvy world. “There, that’s better,” he said.
Normal speed for a sloth in trees was 13 feet per minute, and a max speed of 15 feet if they were in danger. This tree was very tall and he was very high. Even thinking of being so high on a springy limb and hanging upside down would make most people nauseous in their stomach, but not Yinney, he was a slow and methodical aerial acrobat.
He did not feel dizzy at all as he hung so high and looking about. He was use to upside down. Even his fur grew in the wrong direction from so much time upside down. He strained his eyes looking for the glint. There it was again! Could it be what he hoped? Might there be a tree close to it, possibly even overhanging? He had to find out; his spirit pulled that way.
Unfortunately, Yinney’s eyesight being what it is, he had misjudged the distance. As his body grew more weary, it finally became obvious he would not make it today. This meant he would be in the 7th Day and still looking for his tree. The urge would come, there was no doubt. Whether morning, noon, or night he could not say, but his heart was sure that reflection held his tree. He simply had to see.
So as he moved slower and slower, finally coming to a dead stop, he reached for a nearby leaf. This would be his meal before sleep. The casual observer probably would have said he stopped an hour ago, but he had actually progressed another ten feet during that last hour.
Yinney was a three-toed brown throated sloth of the old ways. He only ate leaves. He only pooed every seven days, and always at the bottom of the same tree, which became the sacred 7th Day Tree his life would revolve around.
As a leaf eater, energy always had to be conserved because a leaf diet does not provide much. Yes, Yinney was conservative by nature, a minimalist, leaving a very small footprint in the earth, but also a very special footprint. He was able to eat a poisonous leaf no other creature could.
God had given sloths such a slow digestive system, it took a whole month to digest a leaf! In this slow process not even poisonous leaves hurt him. He ate them all the time, and that made his poo special! Only his poo carried the nutrients of such a leaf to the ground to feed the chosen tree. This was part of his mission, his purpose, his holy task in life. Tomorrow he would know his tree, and hopefully before the urge to poo.
So as he slowly chewed his simple meal, he considered his day’s journey, and the glint of a reflection he saw from high in the tree that morning. This sparkle had become his guiding star. Now he was risking still searching even into day seven. But he was close, very close now. He was sure of it. Tomorrow would be an exciting day! And hopefully he could hold his poo!
<Property of D.A.>