The Prima ballerina stretches her wings high into the sky in agile arabesques, lithe leg extensions, fan and Y spirals that carve wide open arcs spanning the ice, like the arched necks of two swans caressing each others beaks to form a warm and loving valentine, thawing the frozen pond on which she glides in the gentle wake of Springtime. She cradles her lovely limb lifted perpendicular behind her back, as she extends her chest sideways. Her hand, head and arm open wide in a warm and welcoming gesture that embraces her audience with a tender smile. Some birds of prey may dart higher and dive faster to capture their kill since Speedy demons set up a system to clip the wings of the graceful, nimble angel. But, the soaring swan in her pure white feather dress remains unruffled, sweeping us away to a beautiful oasis, where the pure and powerful flow of her expressive soul quenches our thirst like the surge of sweet spring water from deep beneath the earth's surface. But, now that she has enriched our spirits, I hope she fulfills her dream of lighting for a while on a tropical island and reclining beneath a coconut grove. I will look for her to leave her perch of learning at university next season. But, if she has grown weary of Speedy’s futile chase to erase her greatness, I will always adore her for being the Consummate Spiritual Warrior that brought heart, purity, fight and light exquisite positions and lines to a sport where it is rapidly vanishing. And in her absence the triple axel, stunning step sequences and that wonderful wave-like flow in every motion that moves the emotions like the moon does the ocean are an ebb tide receding towards extinction. Flying away from this earthly place like the whooping crane Exclusively seen in her exhibitions.