Straight Up

He flew straight up, from the ground to the sky. Straight. Not at an angle, gaining altitude with updrafts and artful turns of his wings parallel to heaven. Not like a helicopter flapping his wings, gaining vertical inches slowly, carefully with each wing beat. But straight up, leaping from the powdery snow wings flat to his body, beak pointed up, feet stretched out behind him. A jet, a beam of energy launching into space and disappearing into the white falling snow.