Flying was a very tangible freedom. In those days, it was beauty, adventure, discovery — the epitome of breaking into new worlds.
— Anne Morrow Lindbergh, introduction to ‘Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead,’ 1929
There is a place that exists beyond my line of sight and over the horizon. A place that has spoken to my soul since I was a barefoot young girl in a field gazing at the clouds changing shapes. This magical place only reveals itself when I have the courage to unapologetically be my quirky self, to trust my steps and put one foot in front of the other towards that place.
It sounds far too easy at times. Fear, doubt, listening to others, and many other distractions often come up to take my sight off this land that my heart tells me is out there. Deep inside of my heart there lives a girl that fell in love with the sky a long, long time ago. That girl would run barefoot into the wind and laugh as she danced with the birds in the sky. It was in the fields where she felt at peace, at home, and so wildly in love with life. It was in that place that she would hear the gypsies, the daredevils and barnstormers, and she knew she was home.
“Travelers are always discoverers, especially those who travel by air. There are no signposts in the air to show a man has passed that way before. There are no channels marked. The flier breaks each second into new uncharted seas.”
— Anne Morrow Lindbergh, ‘North to the Orient,’ 1935
As the chapters have gone by in my life, time has shown me two things; one, time will not stop when I put my dreams on hold. Two, my heart kept growing more in love with that dream and just because I am not actively pursuing it, my heart always is. Once I came “back” to flying, I realized I never left and in fact the love story has more depth, and far more passion.
“The desire to fly is an idea handed down to us by our ancestors who… looked enviously on the birds soaring freely through space… on the infinite highway of the air.”
I wonder if they had any idea the road that would be paved for future dreamers by the seemingly simple feat of attaining flight on December 17, 1903. To all the wwide-eyeddreamers… dream on. The sky is not the limit to your dreams, it’s the beginning.
“For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.”
– Leonardo da Vinci
My love for flight now naturally includes my children. I am so blessed that they all love flying and love the adventure that it brings. It is with my children that I am fully trusting this next adventure we are embarking on. It is one we have founded on dreams, hope and love. An unsurprising love for this thing we are blessed to call life. The kids and I will fall in love with the forming and shaping of the wood, the intimacy and connection one has with crafting something with their hands and to watch it transform into something of proportions they did not know they were capable of creating. We are building an airplane. Building it in our home, with tiny hands and great big hearts. With penciled drawings, prayers, dreams that we will all be writing on the ribs of the plane. And when she is done, we will fly her, we will fly her with those hopes and dreams that are written in the wings.
It’s without reservation that the kids and I will very intimately journal this love story and share it with you. That is exactly what it is, it’s a love story. Not just with the romance of flight, but a mother’s love for her fledgling birds, growing and sinking our roots together and building wings that will fly. When we finish then maybe, just maybe, one of these little birds will solo in the plane that they built with their momma bird in their nest when they were little.
To invent an airplane is nothing. To build one is something. To fly is everything.
— Otto Lilienthal