parachuting or skydiving - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Parachutes littered the sky like the confetti of a summer wedding, the gayest of colours so bright against a perfect sky. Though in the same wind there was a slight tough of chaos to their movements, each of them taking their own unique path back to earth.
Below the canopy I was liberated. There was nothing more to do than trust the wind and the silk above. Finally I was a bird instead of just looking up toward the sky. I was flying.
The cold air hit my goggles and they misted up. For a few seconds I was blind, then they cleared just as fast and revealed the world far below, a tapestry of country fields. I jumped. The cold air rushed past as I accelerated faster and faster. Then after a time I felt like I was floating and not falling at all. But the trees on the ground were getting larger and closer. I checked my altimeter, it was time to pull the rip cord. My parachute opened quickly and with relief I could see that it had opened as a full canopy, slowing me down to a more leisurely decline.
The skydive was the best five minutes of my life. To see the world as a bird does, to fly in the sky, it truly an exhilarating experience.
Once he was over the threshold, it wasn't so bad. There was a moment of dizzying confusion as the wind hit him once again. He closed his eyes and forced himself to count to three. Pull too early and the parachute might snag on the plane's tail. Even so, his hand was clenched and he had barely reached three before he was pulling with all his strength. The parachute blossomed open above him and he was jerked back upward, the harness cutting into his armpits and sides.
There was a loud buzz and the red light turned green. The assistant pilot had climbed through from the cockpit. He reached for a handle and pulled open a door set in the back of the aircraft, allowing the cold air to rush in. Alex could see a single square of night. It was raining. The rain howled past.
The green light began to flash. The assistant pilot tapped the first pair on the shoulders and Alex watched them shuffle to the side and then throw themselves out. For a moment they were there, frozen in the doorway. Then they were gone like a photograph crumpled and spun away by the wind.
"Pull the cord!" the instructor urged. "Mine isn't working!" But as she tugged at the cord that could save her life, the student failed repeatedly to deploy the parachute. As they hurtled towards the unforgiving ground in tandem, it occurred to both of them that maybe parachuting out of that sketchy rig hadn't been safe at all.
As she touched the ground, Kathy felt a rush of emotion she couldn't even begin to describe. It was the feeling that you get from almost dying but not, and she had never had a similar experience before.