continuing to fly (or seeing the world from above)

When I was little I had, quite often, a particular dream.
I was dreaming that I was flying.
No, I had no wings or anything would help me to do that...  just floating, as that was something absolutely natural.
I was not feeling any fear,  simply enjoying the pleasure of flying.
I remember that, in my dream, the day always was bright and sunny, so I could clearly see everything around the area.
Houses,  colorful gardens, roads, paths, meadows, hills, but never people and cars.
And then, after waking up, I still was so happy and joyful, almost for all the rest of the day.
The last years travelling and flying, with wings this time (the wings of the airplanes), the days during the flight are not
always bright, although always sunny, and the flights are rarely pleasant.

PS.  The last time I had that dream was the night before my father's death.
        Since then I never dreamed it again...


 over the clouds

 and under