I thought it would feel different somehow. More dramatic.
I thought my first flight this year would be immediately preceded by nervousness or anxiety or sober reflection, because I have not flown since that day a few months ago when I learned that a fellow pilot and friend had lost his life to the sky.
Since that day I have done a lot of reflecting. I have thought often about the day last fall when I took flight with my precious boy. I have made a conscious effort to remember all my father taught me, to review safety procedures and to articulate why I fly and why I must fly again.
But none of this ran through my head when I actually stepped into the float plane last weekend; it was instead like slipping on an old shoe.
And yes, it was last weekend, a week ago Saturday that I made my first spring run. The fact that I am writing about it a week later speaks to how inauspicious an event it really was.
It was a windy day and I didn’t really expect I would fly at all. But as day turned into evening the wind died down and my eight-year-old niece showed up with a friend who had never flown before and had been promised a flight with Aunt Kelly.
“It’s a little windy and I haven’t flown since last fall,” I said. “Maybe I should do a run with you first Dad.”
Dad waved me off from his station at the grill. “The wind’s down. Go ahead.”
And I hesitated only a split second, not because I felt anxious, but because I felt that maybe I should feel anxious.
Then I shrugged. "Okay, I’ll take a quick run on my own before I take the girls.”
And Rob jumped up. “I’ll come with you.”
So away we went.
And it was gorgeous.
It was bumpy and lively and the sun was shining and the sky was blue and my heart swelled as the plane and I danced and she accepted my lead like we had been waltzing together forever.
I did a circuit, let Rob practice straight and level flight for a few minutes (did I mention he’s learning to fly as well?) and then brought it in for a smooth landing.
Then I taxied to shore, picked up my niece and her friend and took to the skies again.
And it was even more gorgeous, if that’s possible.
Several minutes later as I brought the plane in on short final for landing, I felt a little tug at my sleeve and turned briefly to see the beaming face of my niece’s friend.
“I’m just a little busy right now sweetie,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering if we really have to land,” she said. “I’d rather keep flying.”
And I had to chuckle.
I’d rather keep flying too, I thought. I’d rather keep flying too.
