“Whoa!” I’m flying. The wind on my face is a little stronger than I’m accustomed to, but who cares. This is really fun. Way off in the distance, dew’s shimmering on corn stalks in this crisp, Iowa morning.
“Stay close to home, Dear,” my mom chirps from our nest in the huge cottonwood tree. Her concerned voice fades behind me as I soar in the breeze, feeling the wind lift my wings, and experiencing the freedom to go anywhere I want.
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