Soaring


Soaring
Originally uploaded by CaptPiper.
When I was a kid, if I could have had just one wish, it wouldn’t have been for a million dollars or world peace, or great beauty, or a horse (although that one would have been close to the top of my list) – I would have wished to be able to fly. Not in a plane, but to just spread out my arms, give a couple of flaps, and take off into the blue. I wanted to soar among the tops of the clouds and swoop down, weightless and totally free. I wanted to feel the wind lifting me up and slide down warm drafts like an invisible rollercoaster. (I especially felt this way during Mrs. Houghton’s math class.) Sometimes I would even move my arms up and down, trying to build my muscles, just in case.
I knew that it would never happen, but one could dream, couldn’t one? My best dreams were ones where I could fly. Although they usually ended with me unable to get off the ground because there wasn’t enough wind, or there were too many electrical wires strung across the sky.
I still dream about those wires. They represent, I’m sure, responsibilies - the obligations and expectations of society.
I’m too old now. I’m earthbound and solid. I don’t want to fly any more. Not often, anyway.

Comments

Lynn said…
Great post.....I wanted to dance....to flit, to float, to fleetly flee to fly (not sure if that is right but you might know what I mean if you've seen the Sound of Music;-)...you know when you are caught up in taking your pictures you really are flying, in a way.....

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