“I hate you, Birdman,” the big man said. He was standing at the end of the path, looking up at Birdman, who was hovering over the lake. The boys stood further up the path, behind the big man. Birdman thought the boys were doomed, but he said nothing. He stayed a little longer, to try to hear more. But the boys were steaming away, their naked torsos dusky with sand.
The only time Birdman came low to the earth was over the water. Here there was other music. In the waves. Birdman could hear it. Birdman could hover. The wind dies from his ears. One day, he flew too close to the beach and heard what all the little boys were saying. “Let’s get out of here,” one of the boys shouted back to the others. There’s no way out, Birdman thought.
theseriallibrary 
I always Like Birdmans