1st flight: Philladelphia to Pittsburg
its a lovely thing to see clouds beneath you, to see the sun on a cloudy day, the continents and island chains spreading out amid a sea of miniature snowy countryside. we are cruising, now, at incredible speed, but out my square little window, we are creeping along at vacation pace. a slow metallic ballet. i have the urge to spread my arms out like a little kid playing airplane. all those little squares of developement down there keep reminding me that i have to come down, eventually, to my own. but for the last few minutes before the descent, i can watch the wings dip into the white and disappear from my view. (did the pilot just say orgasm?)
2nd flight: Pittsburg to South Bend
on my last leg, the sun is going down. the spaces between the clouds have transformed from whitened landscape to lakes of fire. the retreating sun is below them now, and between the continents of clouds burn hot red and orange oceans, spreading out for miles around their edges, but continually burning out as i watch the sun die and fall off the edge of the world. God, what colors!