The airport. Untethered, reasons differing, luggage struggles, life-worn faces, regardless of age.
Sunrise behind stratocumulus cliffs over an ocean of clouds.
The pilot announces a two hour and 52-minute flight at 38,000 feet. Plenty of height for perspective.
Excellent cloud day. Cotton soup with tiny towns below. Cloud handshakes reach across the aisle and march on to the west.
Bejeweled circuit board subdivisions far below.
Hills and slopes stretch into prehistoric fossilized leaf prints.
Piano key agricultural strips.
Popcorn clouds dense, render deep and dappled shadows on a bone-dry landscape.
Souls aloft for this moment, in this lifetime, sustained by a metal can. The illusion of earthbound.
Clouds changing and taking form. Despite its seemed impermanence, water vapor is as close to immortal as anything on this planet.
Below, one cannot resist the thought, when looking at sprawling, spreading cities, that humans are an invasive species.
Modern agriculture: Wind farm
The perfectly rendered eye of a hippopotamus in the landscape, then quickly covered by clouds.
Dense, vaporous clouds below the horizon, bright blue sky above. Horizontal duality as far as the eye can see.
The broken routine—by travel, by incursion—specializes the moment outside of our routinized world. Frees the mind to the new scope, what is arriving on the horizon.
If I had my way, I would traipse this firmament more often, exist outside the tunnel, work at seeing the invisible patterns to better describe what is visible to me.
Escarpments licking down plateaus, red orange against limestone yellow, grand anthropomorphic illustrations, courtesy of erosion.
Reverie concluded. The captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign to begin our descent.
Shouldn't...but Do 