Here I am sitting in my yard swing trying to enjoy the evening show when the crickets quiet and the birds begin their evening song. I hear this racket from above. I take my cigar and leave my campfire to see what's going on. There's a biplane buzzing around one with a serious motor up there. It's doing loops and stalls, falling out of the sky then pulling up, up up. Almost straight up then turning over on a wing as if dancing in the sky. At first I'm annoyed, then captivated, watching it twist, bank climb and dive with the wind whistling through the wires holding the wings as it seems to fall. It pulls out and levels off and disappears behind the hill. The buzzing and roar of the engine fades and I think back to the day I took a few lessons in a Cessna (172?) a four seater back in the. '70's. I recall the poem President Regan quoted when the Challenger blew up; "Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . . Up, up the long, delirious burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace Where never lark, or ever eagle flew — And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand, and touched the face of God." That's what I need to do fly, take a few lessons and solo. The plane is gone now and I can hear the birds. One more thing added to my bucket list. It's a beautiful evening. Carry on.