Above the tree line I find myself wishing I was a bird.
Sometimes after a day of hard climbing the back of my shoulders will tingle. Probably it’s nerve damage. Or maybe sunburn.
But I like to think my bones are trying to grow wings.
I think about the sound of a turkey vulture diving from the cliff top. It sounds like a zipper being pulled. It sounds like air being ripped apart.
I wonder what it’s like to fall like that and know you’ll fly.
