When the world all around me is a deep, brilliant blue and I feel I can touch the tallest mountaintop, that is when I’m truly alive. What joy there is in diving and turning and spiraling and forever and ever and again climbing until I am so high that I am lost amongst that brilliant sea, with a world grown so small and fragile below! And if I might fall, it is only so I can sweep my wings out and feel the rush, the exhilaration as I cry out my joy to that starlit sky above me.

When clouds think to bull in to my domain, I dive through them like an arrow through paper, to laugh and flick and lash at their scattering essences all around me. I am lord of these skies, and I revel in it! When it comes, the rain can be a blessing, a crisp breath of fresh air amidst the night. When those selfsame clouds gang up upon me and rumble their displeasure, I seek to climb higher than they might reach, always, always roaring my defiance.

The wind is my greatest ally and my fiercest rival, and together we race one another through valleys and over rivers to see which of us is the faster. And whenever I fly, wherever I go, I keep this thought close to my heart.

I am free.