Nudging yourself out of the latest in a series of micro naps, eyes struggling to adjust to the offering before them. Out the window stretches rolling hills of pure white, light, vaporous, and devoid of shadow. So bright are these snow capped foothills that it takes only a minute to remember the window belongs to the plane and the snowy hills belong to the sky as they are a field of clouds that you will never dance on. To look down on what everyone else must gaze upward and search the heavens with squinting watery eyes of wonder to see. Even then who can truly see how the sculptures of water and wind shift so willful to form that impossible beauty that will be gone in but a minute more? As the noise pulls at the senses with grating persistence until back in the belly of the multi engine dragon you reside once more, grasp at the memory that escape was had if but for a moment as the icy blue and white wisps danced to the song shared only with you.
I wrote this in my note pad that I keep in my back pocket most of the time when I was flying back from Florida this past September. Just thought I would share as I remembered an awesome trip with my brother and his family.
Merry Christmas (yes I know it was a few days ago) and have a Happy New Year where I hope each and everyone of us finds some new adventure.
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