Flying Observations

Flying Observations

1.

Sometimes I dream I’m flying through the air, pretending I’m a bird when I’m actually swimming underwater in the pool at our apartment complex in Tampa.  Fearlessly, I travel towards the deep end where there are less and less people.  I am invisible to a world of bathing beauties, who lace the outside of the pool, absorbing hours of rays onto their skin.  I touch the bottom of the pool with my hand.  I feel sand. 

2.

When I fly in my dreams, like I do in the pool, I perch on top of the long sweeping branches of the old maple trees of Michigan, weeping willows of Minnesota, and the palms of Florida; these are the trees of my past and present. I am alone in my observations.

3.

I don’t have the words yet to describe what I’m seeing. 

4.

Like in my dreams, I take big underwater strides, gracefully jumping in slow motion from treetop to treetop—disappearing into the blue before me.