04 January 2010

Flying High

I love sitting next to the window on flights. You miss so much when you sit on an aisle, imo. During my flight to visit my family, I took an aisle seat due to ease of accessibility; it was a boring flight. Saturday, I flew home from vacation and sat next to the window.

As I watched my beloved home town go from life-size to ant-size, I marvelled at how it looks like my dad's train set. If, of course, you were to view it only from above. I looked down on cars driving to wherever, and thought "they don't know anyone is watching them...creepy." I continued to watch as the mountains rolled out beneath me, swathed in white. It was beautiful...white snow blanketed the whole landscape below. I was finally able to locate the road upon which I tend to drive, and that made me happy. I, now, want to find all those non-driven (by me) roads and see where they take me. My eyes would follow them until they disappeared. They were easier to spot as they cut their way through all the white, so it was easy to dream about following them.

I also looked down upon clouds. Does any one else wish they could jump into the clouds? I know they won't support me, I know they lack any semblance of being solid...but I long to run around in them/on them and just be in them. They look so soft and inviting!

Anyway, random yellow musings from my flight home.

4 comments:

Jon W. said...

I've felt the same on many a flight. :)

Kristie said...

When I was younger I used to look at the clouds and think of them as a sort of trampoline and now when I fly it brings back those memories and oh how I wish I could jump from cloud to cloud.

Cinderella said...

I also wish that I could prance around in the clouds. I understand logically that I can't, but still....it sounds glorious.

Newt said...

Sometimes when I see a plane going overhead I wonder if there's someone looking out the window down on where I am, wondering if there's someone looking up at the plane in which s/he is riding. And then I think there would be some kind of connection, even though neither of us will ever know...