Make my day
I was putting on my shoes and getting ready for my sunshine walk when I heard it so close I thought it might be landing on my roof, so I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door – and there it was; a big army helicopter landing in Rousslon army barracks. These barracks, just across the road from my house, are supposed to be closed for army activity, but I guess they might still use them for storage space or something because this helicopter landed there. Just behind some tall buildings so I could not see it on the ground, but I could hear it and its rotors were not shutting down.
“Go ahead, make my day” I thought to myself waiting for it to be airborne again, and then I could hear the rotors speed up and there it was in the air again. I just stood there, the sun in my face so I had to shade my eyes with one hand to really see it when it took off, I could feel a smile spreading on my lips and my heart speed up just a little – it just made me so happy to see it.
Yes, I am easily pleased! Especially when it comes to flying machines. I don’t remember when my fascination with them began, but it seems as if it’s been there for ever. The first time I ever got to go up in one I was 11 and my aunt took me on a week long trip to Mallorca. I can still remember how amazing it felt being pushed back into the seat at take-off and then suddenly realizing that we were actually not on the ground anymore.
Perhaps it was then the idea was born in me that I wanted to be a pilot, I don’t know – but I do remember that by the time I was 13 – 14 the plan was firmly set in my mind: I was going to be a fighter pilot. For the next years I stuck to this plan, and I even checked out the physical requirements to be accepted into the Air force pilot school and started training with that in my mind.
Then I got older, and confused… For quite a few years there, it must have been starting when I was around 17 – 18, I somehow got the idea that I was a pacifist, and this meant that I could not possible join the military to become a pilot. As I knew that I would never be able to finance such an education on my own I just gave up on that plan and started making other plans for my life. A couple of years past 20 I finally came to the realization that I wasn’t really much of a pacifist anyway, but by then it somehow felt too late to go back and pursue my dream of flying.
Perhaps it was a good thing that thing turned out as they did, because I do tend to feel that my true “calling” in life lies within writing, but there still is this longing in me to fly machines in the air. Being a passenger somehow just isn’t enough.
I guess I can always dream of one day selling enough books to be able to finance flying lessons…
“Go ahead, make my day” I thought to myself waiting for it to be airborne again, and then I could hear the rotors speed up and there it was in the air again. I just stood there, the sun in my face so I had to shade my eyes with one hand to really see it when it took off, I could feel a smile spreading on my lips and my heart speed up just a little – it just made me so happy to see it.
Yes, I am easily pleased! Especially when it comes to flying machines. I don’t remember when my fascination with them began, but it seems as if it’s been there for ever. The first time I ever got to go up in one I was 11 and my aunt took me on a week long trip to Mallorca. I can still remember how amazing it felt being pushed back into the seat at take-off and then suddenly realizing that we were actually not on the ground anymore.
Perhaps it was then the idea was born in me that I wanted to be a pilot, I don’t know – but I do remember that by the time I was 13 – 14 the plan was firmly set in my mind: I was going to be a fighter pilot. For the next years I stuck to this plan, and I even checked out the physical requirements to be accepted into the Air force pilot school and started training with that in my mind.
Then I got older, and confused… For quite a few years there, it must have been starting when I was around 17 – 18, I somehow got the idea that I was a pacifist, and this meant that I could not possible join the military to become a pilot. As I knew that I would never be able to finance such an education on my own I just gave up on that plan and started making other plans for my life. A couple of years past 20 I finally came to the realization that I wasn’t really much of a pacifist anyway, but by then it somehow felt too late to go back and pursue my dream of flying.
Perhaps it was a good thing that thing turned out as they did, because I do tend to feel that my true “calling” in life lies within writing, but there still is this longing in me to fly machines in the air. Being a passenger somehow just isn’t enough.
I guess I can always dream of one day selling enough books to be able to finance flying lessons…
posted by Lena M Bakke @ 6:31 PM
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