Falling into Flight

Parked at the free camping ground at the start of the Rubicon Trail, in North Lake, Tahoe CA. The back of this ZipCar Jeep Compass Mojave is full of its second load of Samples; Gregory Bags & Packs, MSR tents and ThermaRest Pads- and I'm just way too tired to set-up one of these HubbaHubbas to get some needed rest and dreams.

Half-awake, I fashion a clumsy bed of sleeping bags and stuffed duffles, elevated to above the height of the steering wheel because its the only way to get a best-case-scenario even-ish platform.

And it's cozy too.

I wake several times from some one's car horn honking in the dead of night/morning only to realize that my own leg was to blame.

I slept so well.

This morning I woke up thinking about flying through the atmosphere, more like falling, really.  At an incredible velocity yet almost still -like that reoccurring dream I have where I fall from the sky to my death below, but only this time I was flying.  I leapt from a high mountain cliff gaze set on a distant expanse of water towards the setting sun.

My arms and body felt like wings.