Going Downhill

I always wanted to go downhill all day long.  I like the view from the top of a hill and I like bouncing downhill when I walk and coasting fast when I ride my bike.  I like to zoom down a slope and feel the bounce and swing that moving downhill gives to your legs.

On the other hand, I've never been too sure if the phrase "She's going downhill" was meant to say someone is doing well or poorly.  If someone says it about me, picture me smiling please.  I intend to go downhill as much as possible.

I used to get on a swing, pump my legs and lean into the work of swinging until I was moving in a giant arc back and up and down and up again, over and over.  Then, at the apex of a swing, I'd let myself loose and fly through the air, feeling for a brief moment the sensation of weightlessness in midair.

I watched surfers off Lovers Point today.  I'd just walked downhill three blocks from Zocalo (where I'd had a carnitas taco and pollo caldo), and my stride was lengthened by the downward slope of the hill.  The surfers paddled like mad, were lifted up high on the edge of a cresting wave, and then took off down the face, swooping left or right as the wave rolled on and on.

I remembered flying dreams today and wanted to lift off and soar, but I wanted to be able to go fast, feel speed and G forces when I turned, so I watched the surfers and imagined flying around high-banked turns through the clouds in the distance.  I was limited only by my imagination, which was not limited at all.  It feels good to fly like that, with a snootful of sunshine and a light freshening breeze.  

"Whatever you do or dream you can, begin it.  Boldness has genius, power and magic in it" -- Goethe