As many times as I’ve flown, it doesn’t get old. The plane charging down the runway, picking up speed, bumping along until you start to wonder if it’s out of control. The slight lift as the front wheels come off the ground, the anticipation. And then the sudden smoothness when the rear wheels leave the earth.
That moment when you know you’ve done the impossible. You’ve left the earth. You’re flying.
And then the view. The unique sensation of looking down on everything. The buildings shrink, the roads fall away. The paradox of things both shrinking and growing at the same time - individual items grow smaller as your view of the world grows bigger, an ever-growing swath visible through your window.
It’s especially magical at night when everything on the ground is lit up. Inevitably the plane banks shortly after takeoff. Nervous travelers grip the hand rests, but for me, this is the best part. There is so much to see in that moment – the diminishing houses and cars represent the dozens, hundreds, thousands of people you’ve left behind. The ponds and rivers lead the eye in a dozen directions, each beckoning you to explore it’s unique path. As we rise higher and higher above the ground, the lights begin to form patterns – arcs and curves, irregular starbursts, the straight lines of highways. Snakes. Rivers of light. Oranges and whites. Fading slowly away as you climb higher.
Just as you start to lose interest in the ground, the clouds appear, if it’s not too dark. They look so firm and solid from here, surely you could step out the door and walk around on one, if only they’d let you. And then the clouds envelop you, and you don’t feel a thing, although it seems like you should. I can’t decide if it would feel like a big fluffy comforter on a soft mattress; or a gentle rainy mist as you walk along the beach on a sticky summer day. Definitely one of those.
Over and over I’ve done this. And still, I put down my book and stare out the window, fascinated as always.
© Kimberlee Martin, 2017. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit (cuz I was too busy gawking to snap a pic)
CC Image courtesy of Henry Burrows on Flickr (CC BY-SA 2.0)