The Magic of Flying

Getting Ready To Fly

17 x 14 inches

oil/cold wax/pastel

I fly a lot in my dreams. I've read this is a sign of being or feeling free. 

Perhaps. What I know, these dreams are a special gift. 

When I have a flying dream, I soar way above earth, where it's cold, but I'm not cold. Instead, I feel as if my heart is pulsing outside my body and I can barely catch my breath for the excitement of it all.

Just like Superman, stretching my arms out in front of me, I run and pitch myself forward into the wind. For an instant, I am barely off the ground, waiting for the wind's embrace to lift me. And then, up, up, and up. 

Grinning like mad, I'm amazed I am flying. No fear, just pure joy. Sometimes I see others flying but, usually I'm up there by myself, cruising along, feeling weightless and unbound by gravity. 

To land, I slowly descend back to earth, hovering over the ground until I can easily place me feet back on terra firma. 

Sometimes, I'm really lucky and fly twice in a dream, reenacting the whole Superman move, just to have that feeling of being lifted up into the sky. It's pure sensation. 

The magic of flying-

though 

I'm lying still, 

in bed,

sleeping, 

I'm really traveling 

great distances. 

Lessons learned in a strawberry patch

When I was about five years old, I lived in a small German village. Not far from our house was a strawberry patch, which belonged to our neighbor.

One late spring day, a friend and I spied those strawberries and decided to have a taste. Well, one taste led to another and before long we had eaten her entire patch.

Oh boy, was she mad. 

Oh boy, was I in trouble.

I remember those sweet, little strawberries peaking their strawberry bodies out from under their elfin like green leaves. The sun caught their complementary colors in it's rays and I was mesmerized. And into the patch we crawled. A picnic of strawberries and giggles. It was worth the punishment. 

I can't say the same for today. I bought a carton of tempting looking strawberries and disappointingly, they tasted either watery or overly ripe. Where do today's gigantic strawberries come from? They look so good, yet taste so uninspiring.

 Today's strawberries wouldn't have lured a five year old and her friend into a forbidden strawberry patch on a drowsy sunny day where, after indulging, allowed themselves to lay on their backs and let the sun kiss their strawberry sweet faces.