Shake a leg. C'mon. Get up. Going to be late.
Your voice is far away. I rise slowly from my foggy sleep.
I am not a morning person.
Quick slice of toast, unfinished cup of tea. Woolly jumper, jeans, waterproofs and we're off.
It's cold, damp and dark. I see you slip our wellies slyly into the boot - not a good omen.
I don't like surprises and I already don't like the way this is going.
You drive and I am lulled back to fitful sleep, awakened intermittently by rutted roads, sharp bends and full stops. I have no idea where we are going - or why.
With a shudder the engine stops. My neck aches. I open one eye and we're in a field. I think I can smell cows - or sheep - or something that might stick to my feet. I'm suspicious and to my surprise a little fearful. We set off through the lightening gloom in our wellies towards a small wood. I daren't ask. Will there be a clearing, a camp, a tree-hugging guru - what ?
We exit the wood and trudge up a sloping bank and on the crest I am finally fully awake. I catch my breath. I am amazed. I look down on a chaotic colourful scene. The fields are steaming in the strengthening sunshine and the rays form mini rainbows at our feet. There are a dozen or so people - some in hi-viz jackets - a small round tent and three rainbow hang-gliders resting on the grass like wounded dragonflies. They have ropes attached and I am reminded of a scene from Gulliver's Travels in Lilliput. Heads turn towards us and you wave as we make our way down in the playful wind.
Magical. It is a gift and I am completely unprepared but I throw myself into the experience. In teams of seven - six on the ropes and one with wings - we climb halfway up the slope, turn and run. The glider and flyer rise gracefully into the air, safely anchored by us. On the ground we tumble, full of adrenalin. We collapse like tenpins, gasping, laughing, rolling in the soft mud. I am sweating now inside my too many layers. We take turns again and again as we are harnessed and rise to inhale the airy merging of man, machine and the elements.
Now it's me. I am so small and slight that I lift with the breeze even before they run. It's exhilarating. With the wind in my ears the birdsong disappears as I join them in their world for sixty glorious seconds. I land. I catch your eye. You are beaming.
My birthday treat is not quite over. The instructor and I carry a glider to the highest ridge. We take five steps back. He straps us in.
Ready?
We run forward and ………..
I have dreamt of such a moment. For one heart-stopping beat we drop and then we are flying. Really flying. All eyes on us, tiny white faces upturned as we swoop, circle and climb. Circle, climb and swoop. I look down and laugh and laugh and laugh.....