TAKING FLIGHT

A man ran down the street this morning, flapping his arms. It wasn’t clear if he was running for exercise, moving his arms in the bitter cold, or actually thinking they were wings and with enough motion he might take off. There is also the possibility that he was simply crazy and a look at the thermometer, reading 6 degrees did lend some support to that conclusion. He ran up and down the street staring up at the sky. I watched him for the better part of an hour. I grew tired just from watching but he seemed tireless. Finally, unable to stop staring at him, unable to accomplish anything else, I picked up the phone to dial 911, to get him the help he needed or soon would in this chill. The 911 dispatcher said we get them all the time, particularly as the holiday approach. “Keep an eye on him,” the dispatcher asked, as if I could do otherwise. Just as the squad car turned around the corner, carefully approaching him from behind, I looked on in awe. I saw the man lift gracefully into the sky to the surprise of the crows gathered in a neighbor’s gingko tree. As the police officers stood by their car, staring at the sky, I finally looked away and daydreamed of origami cranes.

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