Does anyone think about what it would be like to be able to fly? I watch the birds hanging in air, gliding, looking down on us maybe, or perhaps they are closing their tiny eyes and enjoying the air in their feathers and in their little faces. Maybe they don't look down at all in those moments. What must that feel like to be elevated by a wind gust and enjoy the ride and maneuver the mysterious currents?

Once I saw a hawk teaching her two fledglings how to fly. It must have been their first moments in the air because they would venture away from her and then come back to touch her and then fly out again. Oh, what joy! I knew that mother hawk because she hunted incessantly to feed those babes; she was relentless and driven, calling out and fearlessly swooping onto my dogs. I understood her needs, felt her exhaustion and respected the danger she posed in that state because I fed three of my own until they left me. I will never forget her.

I fly in my dreams and that sensation is so close to my consciousness that if someone asked me offhandedly if I could fly I would say yes... and to be able to levitate by using your mind, to slowly and artfully lift off from the ground and hover and glide. I can do that too, but not here. Here is heavy.