And
so. There are the flying kind. And what is the mechanism of an elephant’s
flight? What is the posture he takes before careening off? Surely this is a
blundery ordeal, an elephant taking to the wind—grunts, half charging the
crows, tusk in all upward thrust, thrushes up from the grass uncertain hovering
like flies, a great mass of grey skin heavy bone weighted folds of fat and
tendon, jerking short neck up, rampaging on for dear trumpeting earth until a
slender plane of dirt kicks up before us and another and another, the entire
clearing shrouded in red and brown white clods of wild cloud. Just at the
bright height of a craned eye, we might observe the hurtling shadow of an
airborne pachyderm.
Do
some do it differently? Simply lift their short tails up in a flapping breeze
and follw it into the air like a baggy balloon?