It's really cool how many different people you see. People from all kindsa places, with all kindsa voices. Some are just as excited as I, a person who very seldom flies.
It's a beautiful thing, to fly. Or to be carried up in a giant tin can, more like.
But the fact that I'm in the air, my face warmed by the dawn's sun Piercing through the window, is a Privilige. An importantly rare occasion.
It's so gorgeous. The way the rays of the morning flow over the blanket of cottonesque clouds over Portland. The colors go from a dark gray to a light smoke, and then to a light pink.
In moments like these, I wonder how people can sleep on airplanes.
God forbid I am ever accustomed to one like them.
No comments:
Post a Comment