Friday, August 16, 2013

A day in the life...



Dark. 

Cold. Nothing but cold, dark and some kind of constraint. Where am I, how did I wind up here? I have to move. I’m trapped, wrapped up in some kind of tape with just enough flex to wiggle slightly. 

I twist and turn, bend forward and back, loosening the confines just a little each time. Slightly more room but still bone-chillingly cold. Must keep moving, must get free. My movements cause a dim light to begin to peak through; could this be the way out or the way deeper in? Must keep moving, must get free, and must find warmth.

My legs, I can move my legs! Is it the cold or the tightness of my bindings that make my legs feel strange? They seem to be moving independently of my thoughts. Must keep moving; must get free. 

At last, some room, room to move. Push, pull, getting frantic, my arms feel useless. Like my legs, my arms are feeling disconnected. Twist, turn, must seek the warmth. The crack of light is getting wider; could it be getting closer?

Warmth - could it be coming from the light? I twist and turn to get closer to the light. For good or for bad, I crave the warmth.  

The light is brighter now, it fills my blurry vision. What now?  A new sensation, a force, a movement, one not caused by me. Up and down and at the same time almost like a horizontal free fall. I’m twisting and turning but not of my own will. What is happening, again how did I get here?

As quickly as the violence came there is calm, cool instead of frigid. Dare I take time to relax? I feel a drive to escape my entombment; an urgency even greater than before. Again and again, I push against my bindings. The tomb top inches open, the gap widens, the light pours in, and at last – warmth flows over me. The blinding pain from the sudden light is a small price to pay for the lifesaving warmth.  I still can’t move my arms but one of my legs pokes through the spreading crack. I am so close, so close to my freedom. 

Freedom. I stand atop my prior prison and gaze at the wide-open world. One glance reveals an eddy of a mountain stream, sunlight filtering through the willows and aspens hugging the shoreline.  Surrounding me are more escapees, thousands of us pouring out of our own private cells.  Their glances are ones of bewilderment, all of us at a loss to explain this transformation. No time to wonder or worry, a new drive urges me onward.  I stretch out, my arms unfolding, wait now I understand – who needs arms! I have wings... to FLY. 

Joyous warmth and sunshine spur on the drive. I know not where I go but I feel I have only a short time to get there. I leap and flap my wings, glorying in freedom of my first flight. Along with the hordes of my new brothers and sisters, I head out over the water to the new horizon. 

Above me, a cloud of bats are flapping our way. Will they pass me by if I hug the water line? Alas, this is not the answer either. Brook trout, like missiles bursting into air, devour those poor souls who get a little too close to the surface. While black dive-bombers attack from above and silver rockets explode from below my drive is relentless and, regardless of the danger, only gets stronger.

I must find her. Find The One. Propagate the species, answer the drive. Where is she? There are just so many of us - how can I hope to find The One? I scour the swarm, searching, and spot her. So coy, hovering shyly, tracing the lines of a helix as she waits for her One, me. I zoom to her as fast as I can beat these glorious new wings, ignoring the splash from below.

Dark.