The best time to fly is autumn. At that time and at no other, the goose with its steel-grey and white feathers and the shy woodcock, on their way to warm countries, raise themselves in long flights. At that time, nature encourages even us to fly, when she stretches long, grey threads in the dry but fresh air, which are nothing but the first molecules of flight. But first another warning: you must be honest with the element of air. Use neither guile nor any cunning. For once there was someone who thought he was cleverer, and he fell into the sea. That was a long time ago...

from Tortured freedom by Marian Pankowski