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 windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
and the tales of an old aviator.
Bank left…pull back on the throttle
I will wave from the shore as you drift off to sea,
just as I used to stand on the ground and watch you fly overhead,
(assuming every plane was you)
Visibility out of a Super DC3 is poor unless you bank the generous wing and engine cowl downward
Fire and water fed the child
Oil and water as a teen, we were
I did not think we could be emulsified.
As adults we grew
together, brave and proud.
Rock solid...40 knots
The Duke’s daughter.
Montreal is a long way from Chilliwack, and feels infinitely more so right now. And so I am here, reading his stories again, desperate to hear his voice. I want to thank you all for keeping him alive; over these past couple of years and even now...and hopefully well into the future.