I love to fly. Not the hassle of modern air travel, but the act of hurtling across the country at 30000 feet in an aluminum tube.
We may have left the glamour of the Jet Age behind, but the magic is still there for me.
Clouds fascinate me. To see them from above is magical. Realizing that every variation in texture displays the wonders of our physical world at work. Every current, every eddy – whether dozens or hundreds of miles across, cut by rivers of wind in the sky. No wonder the ancients thought them the home of heaven.
And then to see a shadow on the top of the clouds! There truly is something higher.
The soft flow of the suspended water vapor is a wonderful contrast to the strong industrial lines of our aircraft. Like a shark cruising the depths and shallows, it slices through this vast sea.
Thunderheads on the horizon, lit from within by their ferocious lightning.
Everyone should see this at least once in their lives. It will make you feel a little small.
Descending through the cloud cover to return to earth, is like an amusement park ride with zero visibility. Blue skies above, nothing but gray and white below. And then you’re enveloped. No horizon, no sense of perspective, just the bumps of turbulence. I am not worried, we are in the hands of skilled men and women. This is not a bus, I can drive a bus, you can drive a bus. We can’t land a jet. Remember to thank them.
This really is a wondrous world in which we live.