Did you ever dream you were flying? As a child, this was one of the good dreams, one of those I hoped for and wanted. Waking up from them always made me feel exhilarated and happy. I still occasionally dream I can do it, I still have that feeling, but it has become oh so rare. Not like as a child when I would find myself in a dream running like the wind, and then I would just take off and run just above the street, then higher and higher, in great, impossible leaps above the world. Sometimes I woke from those dreams, laughing myself awake.
I remembered this because the last couple of days, I have been experiencing the closest I ever got to that feeling. I had a present from the men of the family: I got a new bike.
I have wanted one for years, and now I have it and it's spring! No matter that the snow is melting slowly, the roads are bare and I am flying low above the ground. OK, so I am sore in muscles forgotten and places unmentionable, but the sensation of wind in my hair, of racing along with no effort, freely, unfettered - it is like a dream.
And so it's spring, Sunday 20th was the spring equinox, days are now longer than nighs here, and the light is returning fast. I have a slight burn on my cheeks after biking into the sun, and I haven't wanted to collapse with exhaustion at any time today. All I want to do is cherish that sensation of flying.
And not think of those other dreams.