feet on the ground, head in the air

Yesterday found me starting the morning off a thousand feet in the air. Not figuratively, literally. I learned long ago that when an opportunity presents itself while traveling, and that opportunity is a bit expensive but only available at that particular locale, one should jump and grab it with both hands. So I awoke early and travelled out to the little dusty airfield 10 miles outside of Sedona, AZ and went flying in an ultralight with a paracute. Powerchuting is like hurtling oneself down a runway in a rickety dune buggy and then suddenly taking wing under a rectangular parachute. It was a neat experience. Despite the loud engine, it was extremely peaceful. The parachute means that the journey is very smooth. We went up about an hour after dawn when the sky was perfectly clear and the light was hitting all the red rocks with clarity. From the desert, we flew to the red rocks and buttes, circled around them, dipping up and down in the thermals. I have a bit of an appreciation for what it's like to be a bird. Alas, no flying dreams last night.

The latter part of the morning was spent walking the labrinyth in Sedona. The first picture is of the labyrinth, the second a link to the location. It was the first time I had ever walked a labyrinth. I found the dichotomy between making each step consciously, feeling my feet connect with the ground, with the body memory of being in the air a really interesting contrast.

Thirty four. Today is the 34th year that I have awoken and again, it is sunny on this day. What a gift! I have emails from around the globe and count myself blessed indeed by my friendships. But boy, the sun. That's the best gift for a girl from rainy, cloudy Vancouver.