I believe I can fly

Before you start to run down the hill, you need to pause, take a deep breath, and let the wind lift your parachute. It’s the same mighty force that picks up your airplane after it sprints down the runway, but you feel it in the straps, like the skies are pulling you up, calling you up, up, up…. and then you run.


I’m not much of a runner, and in the short space of five minutes, I watched two others tumble downhill, slide on their buttocks, parachute trailing, all tangled. It wasn’t a particularly windy day.

Two days ago, I had rented a scooter to go up to Sarangkot, and I was watching people take off and fly, fly fly, talking to some of the attendants on the field when they were not prepping parachutes, and of course trying to psych myself up to the challenge. They had it easy, got picked off the ground almost instantly, and then up, up, up, cavorting with curious eagles. I loved watching them for hours, even went up to the viewpoint to watch them.



Then, when I had the parachute on, and Robin was talking to me, telling what to do, I went to robot mode and  I just wasn’t going to stumble down the hill. It would have been too easy. And too embarrassing, with many people watching. I was determined to fly 🙂

Well not that anything was up to me, but when is? It’s like my life, giving myself over to the winds, to unscrupulous pilots, who take me here and there, drifting, sometimes with a rough landing. 


And then we were off, and I started screaming, screaming, screaming, soaring over the trees, like a bird, like always in my dreams, and then circling over the fields, the rocks, the houses. Dangling in the air. I did look up to the slight piece of cloth holding us suspended hundreds of metres up, the size of the wing of a small plane actually, but still, too flimsy, too scary to consider that it was all keeping us afloat.


Better to pretend that I can fly. All my myself. And then float over the lake and over to the mountains and away, away, away.



Robin pulled some strings and then we landed, quite softly, like jumping off a chair, and then it was all over, too quickly, too soon.


Maybe I can fly. Maybe not. Maybe it was just a dream. But I love dreaming.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s