Before I was ready, she shook, then pushed up off the post; wings that were an instant earlier barely distinguishable brown foldings against the brown body became pennants stretching into the sky. I heard the first flaps, and would have sworn I felt the air pushed by as she took off, up and then arcing away, over the draw and the measly scrub oaks and chokecherry at its bottom, completing a turn to the west, then up over the sun, with slow, heavy wingbeats of a monarch in no hurry, yet somewhere to go. Up higher, and then soaring, wings stretched flat, the distal-most feathers spread like the fingers of a child with a hand out the car window, caressing the air racing past she flew. She flew.
God this is beautiful, Perry
It brought me to tears
This is you
taking off as a writer
Before I was ready, she shook, then pushed up off the post; wings that were an instant earlier barely distinguishable brown foldings against the brown body became pennants stretching into the sky. I heard the first flaps, and would have sworn I felt the air pushed by as she took off, up and then arcing away, over the draw and the measly scrub oaks and chokecherry at its bottom, completing a turn to the west, then up over the sun, with slow, heavy wingbeats of a monarch in no hurry, yet somewhere to go. Up higher, and then soaring, wings stretched flat, the distal-most feathers spread like the fingers of a child with a hand out the car window, caressing the air racing past she flew. She flew.
Thank you.