Yesterday, I spent the chilly afternoon at the park down the street with my friend. We were strolling back to my favorite library, where we had met up earlier. The breeze gave birth to goose bumps on our arms and raised the hair on the back my neck. The sun was setting, which gave the sky a warm, orange glow and made the clouds blush. The path had large, green and brown trees all around and there was an emerald, grassy slope to my right. We had laid there earlier, talking about where we would be in ten years and how we were going to take the world by storm. As we walked, an idea came to him. He stated that he wanted to show me a place he loved, and he started to run.

So I ran too.

It was uphill, so my breath quickened but I loved the feeling. The steady pounding of our feet, the fresh, cold air biting our faces, and the smell of the grass around us made us truly appreciate our time of youth. We leaped down a set of five steps. As the wind whipped around my ears, I remembered how great it had felt when I had run for miles around my neighborhood a year ago. The burn in my thighs, the ache in my lungs, the dryness in my lips, the heat in my palms and feet, all of it created the perfect moment in time. Pure. Untainted. No flaws, no shortcomings to be the cause of disappointment. Just me and the pavement. There are times I wish I had the ability to take a snapshot of those moments, just to keep them forever with me. I might be flying in those moments... or I could be a bird.

As my friend and I ran, he pointed at the rose-colored sky. A raven was soaring overhead. I took in the grace and beauty of it, and a laugh bubbled out of my throat. I was a raven. My black hair whipped behind me, my body propelled me forward, the world fluttered right past me. The raven flew.

So I flew too.