My favorite seat on a plane is by the window. Most people like the aisle seat because they can stretch their legs out every now and then. But I’m happiest curled up peering out that small window.
Yesterday as we headed home, I was there by the window watching the mountains, lakes, roads, and clouds go by. The sky was blue just overhead, but far away in the distance, there was lightening: three bolts touched down. I could see the rain falling, too. We actually flew through some clouds next, and I remembered Roald Dahl’s chapters about the Cloud Men in James and Giant Peach.
The landscape was beautiful and changed from desert to mountains. Then we flew along the coast. I noticed familiar landmarks, the pier by my home, the freeway, finally the airport rising in the distance.
Flying is still amazing to me. That idea that I can go buy a ticket, get on a plane, and fly off to anywhere I choose! I confess that I don’t begin to understand how exactly a plane can fly. Much to my father’s frustration, I made him explain over and over again how planes worked when I was a child. He engineered aircraft fasteners, so he knew how and why planes worked very well. No matter how many times he told me, I couldn’t understand how that giant, heavy, metal thing could fly like a bird. Flying still seems like a magic trick to me.
Being up in the plane made me feel small, of course, in comparison to the hugeness of the scene below. But it also made me feel wonder. And my thoughts wandered to all the things that humans have done that is good, worthy of pride. I thought of things I have done that I’m proud of…. I landed feeling awestruck, satisfied, and grateful for the journey.