“The thousands small birds of January in their smooth soaring cloud finding the trees.”

“I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close set bars of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there; were it but free, it would soar cloud-high.”

“Twenty thousand birds moved away from me as one, like a ground-hugging white cloud, clucking softly.”

“Outside, gray clouds stretched to infinity. Were my parents and Mikey out there somewhere? I imagined them soaring like birds through the heavens, and wondered how, in a sky so endless, could there be no room for me?”

“They say there were birds who used to soar through the skies like planes.It seems strange that a small animal could achieve anything as complex as human engineering, but the possibility is too enticing to ignore.”

“It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained...”