A Gust Across the Planks

The canvas bag touched down, and an opening opened instantly! I taxied out over the rim, tires landing on rough, sun-warmed wood with a sturdy thud. Straight ahead stretched a long outdoor picnic table overlooking an open green lawn. A brisk afternoon breeze tore across the clearing, catching my black propeller and sending it spinning like mad. Ahead sat an empty red soda can, rocking slightly in the wind. I banked right around its base, tires humming along the cedar grain, and parked squarely at the table's edge. Grass, trees, and flying birds everywhere!