Flying.

I often have dreams where I can fly.  In fact, I am close to obsessed with it. Sometimes to fight off sadness, I imagine myself hovering just above a situation. I levitate right out of my kitchen, through the window... and off. To... wherever. Today I was biking, and I saw a red-winged blackbird in flight. I was pedaling fast, and the bird took off a mere yard or two away from me, and for a few brief moments he flew in sync with me. Beating wings, streaking red across the green field, perfectly in time.

And as we moved together, same speed, same height, same motion... I thought.. Hm. Perhaps I can fly, after all.