I wish I could fly...

      Fly Away 
I wish that I could fly
Into the sky
So very high
Just like a dragonfly

I'd fly above the trees
Over the seas in all degrees
To anywhere I please

Oh I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah

Let's go and see the stars
The milky way or even Mars
Where it could just be ours

Let's fade into the sun
Let your spirit fly
Where we are one
Just for a little fun
Oh oh oh yeah !

I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah.
Lyrics, Lenny Kravitz

I slept in this morning and when I got to the kitchen Frankie was already there sitting at the dinette table, still in jammy's, and with bed head. Her fingers were interlaced around a steaming cup of coffee.

She looked very pensive, a dreamy look on her face.  I was not sure she had noticed I had arrived and I didn't want to startle her, so quietly as I could I poured myself a cup of coffee.

Frankie:  (Sighing) "I wish I could fly."

Me:  "You mean take a trip somewhere?"

Frankie:  "No, I mean fly.  Like a bird"

Frankie is very visual, she talks (a lot) with her hands and arms, which she has extended straight outward at her sides.  Slowly, gently she dips them up and down, like we've all seen planes do during a fly-byes or fly-overs.

She goes back to hugging her coffee mug.

I sit quietly across from her contemplating what to say.  I can tell when something meaningful is going on in her head, and I don't want to break the spell, so we both sit in silence.

Me:  "I think I know what you mean."  I say in honest seriousness.

Frankie:  "Really?"  Her tone is quizzical, as though she thinks I'm trying to placate her.

Me:  "No, seriously." I say. I walk my butt to the edge of my chair, square my shoulders and prepare my story.  "There are times in my life when I have a great desire to be a bird myself.  For instance, when I see a red-tailed hawk soaring overhead on a hot August afternoon.  I'd give anything to be in the air with it, breeze in my face, circling, circling, circling.  I can't begin to imagine what it must be seeing, and how it must be feeling to be free and unencumbered by land.

Frankie:  "Yeah, yeah!"  There is a certain excitement in her voice, and she inches forward in her chair.

I love a captive audience so I continue.

Me:  "I remember one spring day the sky was filled with a mass of pinkish white, with touches of grey cumulus clouds.  They reminded me of cones of cotton candy you find at a fair.  I noticed tiny black objects coming in and out of them.  What the heck?  I dashed inside and grabbed my binoculars.  When I got back outside I aimed the lenses at the black dots, and was surprised to see the dots were seagulls.  I was fascinated, I hung the binoculars around my neck and watched the black dots for a long time.  I swear these gulls were playing hide and seek, or perhaps getting themselves a shower in the moisture laden clouds.  How I wish I could have been playing with them."

The dreamy look is back on Frankie's face, and I know she is envisioning the gulls, clouds and spring afternoon.

My coffee mug is empty, I walk to the sink and set my mug inside.

Me:  "Last story, I promise.  One summer evening I was standing at the front storm door.  There on the electrical wire was a line of little birds.  Overhead, two swallows were swooping in close to the wire and the little birds would get very excited nearly losing their balance as they tried to touch the parents mouths.  But, at the last instant, the parent would fly away.  What were these adults trying to do?  I watched in wonder.  Time and time again the parent would fly in close, the young would stretch out, the parent would fly away.  It seemed to me this was a learning experience, but I was not understanding.  Then  I remembered swallows catch their food on the fly.  Perhaps, the parent was saying.  'Yes, I have the food, but I am no longer going to bring it to you.  If you want it, you must fly for it.'  This activity went on for a few evenings, and then as suddenly as they had come, swallows were gone.  I have never been privileged to see this activity ever again."

Frankie sat in silence.

Me:  "So, I do understand your desire to fly like a bird.  How marvelous would it be to soar like a red-tail hawk on a summer afternoon, (I extend my arms outward, and gently dip my wings up and down, in fly-over, fly-by action)?   Or to bathe in mist of puffy, silken clouds, or be a feathered teacher?"

Frankie leaped out of her chair, a broad smile on her face.  I think she knew I did understand.  She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me toward the front door.

Frankie:  "Let's bird watch for a while."

"I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah"
Lenny Kravitz