Flights Of Fancy

I don't remember everything about it, but there are a few very vivid images that bounce around my head when I think of my preschool. I remember that you had to walk across a bridge to get from the main building to the playground, and the whole situation was nestled in among the trees. In my mind's eye it all appears so lush and tranquil from the outside.
Inside, the ceilings were low and all the foliage outside made it cool and dark. All the better for all of us little ones to drift off to sleep when nap time came. The cubbies that lined the far wall were painted in a rainbow of colors, and the mats we were supposed to lay down upon were hanging there along with our jackets and any other personal effects. I tried to relax and drift off when it was time for napping, but even at that very young age my agitated brain would not slow down long enough to participate in the group sleep. What went on when we closed our eyes? I couldn't help but peek. I never saw anything suspicious or frightening, but I attributed that to my own vigilance. Nothing bad was going to happen on my watch.
Then it was time to go outside, across the bridge. Other kids used their time outdoors to socialize, to invent games and to play in organized groups. Not me. I headed for the helicopter. It was big enough for two kids to climb inside, but I never invited a co-pilot. Instead, I hurried out and pulled the door shut behind me, set for a world of adventure. All by myself. The interior was not nearly as detailed or impressive as the bright blue exterior, but that didn't matter. My imagination created all the dials and controls and I took off for far off lands, always careful to remember to be back in time to go back across the bridge, retrieve my jacket, and head home. The next day, the same thing: no nap, then straight to the skies.
And now, forty-some years later, I miss the quiet closeness of that cockpit and the flights I used to take without leaving the ground. I still don't take naps, but every now and then I get the urge to take off and go into the wild blue yonder.