Yesterday at some point I remembered that when I was a kid I used to have a recurring dream that I could fly.  The dream usually started with my standing in our driveway.  We had two very large trees next to the driveway.  One was a tree we called a “rubber” tree because it had vines hanging down.  The other was (and still is) a giant.  I should know the names; I do not.  (Family, help here?)  Anyway, in the dream I would stand on the driveway, and slowly spread my arms.  Sometimes just a few gentle flaps and I would slowly lift off. Sometimes I would have to work harder. Usually there would be a short period of uncertainty: Would it work?  I think that in some dreams I was aware that I had flown in the past, but maybe that had been a dream, and so it would not happen now that it was “real.”  Sometimes there would be people looking (friends or siblings).  Most times I would start to rise… maybe occasionally I would falter and sink back.  But usually the flying turned into the same thing as swimming underwater.  The same movements would propel me through the air.  I would rise high above the big tree.  Sometimes I would fly all the way to school, about a mile away.  In my mind I could see down to the street below and the houses.

As the memory returned to me yesterday, I was like an addict.  Could it be possible to slow time, and I could experience in my brain that sensation of flying over and over again?  Even now, writing this, I am pausing and closing my eyes, and I can feel myself lifting off the ground.  The brief moment when part of the brain says that my arms have no lift, and the other part feels my body lifting up.

Anyway, I now unfortunately have a modern soundtrack to my flying dream (there definitely was no sound before).  Frankie Rose, “Pair of Wings”:

The remix here is OK:

And this acoustic version is sweet: