THE FLIGHT OF THE
BUCKEYE
The rays of sunlight
sparkle on the snow covered lake.
The wind is calm and
the sock hangs limp on the stake.
My hands are
trembling as I sit buckled in the seat.
My mind is racing as
I glance down at my feet.
The foot controls are
in place and the parachute layed out.
I have been here
before but there is always some doubt.
I check the
instruments again, then turn the key for ignition.
All thoughts of
turning back are now in remission.
The aircraft moves
forward and starts to accelerate.
The chute fills and
curls up, then begins to elevate.
In no time at all I'm
a hundred feet in the air.
It's like hanging by
threads in your old rocking chair.
I glance in the
mirror to see the chute against the sky.
It's such a beautiful
sight and to think it can fly.
I look down at the
mural that has unfolded below.
Houses and fences dot
fields now covered with snow.
I spend about an hour
practicing what I had learned,
Floating over the
tree tops and making gentle turns.
I am back over the
lake and as I circle around.
I check for any wind
and a place to touch down.
As the skis touch
softly and the craft begins to slow,
I shut off the engine
and collapse the chute on the snow.
I just sit there for
a moment, my legs gone to mush.
Another flight of the
"Buckeye." Man what a rush!
Richard Allen
Nukko Lake, B.C.