I remember only that I dreamed I was flying. I had never done that before. But this night, I felt my body lift off from the foot of our yard and float up above the yard, the street, the house... and while there, my intent was enough to move me - higher, and farther down the street. How beautiful, how peaceful it all looked from above, every detail of branch and leaf, pattern of roof tile and complexity of chimneys filling the hushed night scene below me.
I may never fly again. But my body remembers how it feels, and I sigh in sympathy with every bird as it alights and folds its wings.