I'm Back
I flew into Dulles this evening, just as the sun was setting.
A digression: I don't understand why everyone doesn't fight for the window seat. Seriously. People get on and CLOSE THE WINDOW SHADE. Why? I have two magnificent memories of flights where it was clear all the way and all I did was look out the window.
The first was when the moon was at its perigee in the late nineties. I flew to my parents' in Los Angeles from Boston. The moon was rising just as we took off and it was clear the whole way. The Mississippi River nearly made me cry in its silver glory.
The second was around the same time (1999 or 2000). I'd visited family in DC and was flying home. It was a clear day and as we went up the Chesapeake Bay, I finally understood the idea that a beach, if approached at the microscopic level approaches an infinite length. The little twists and turns and filigrees of the water against the shore were so detailed and beautiful, then we were over open water for a few minutes and something caught my eye in the distance. Manhattan was to our left crystal clear and sparkling with the World Trade Center looking so grand. It was the first time, only time, I ever thought those towers were beautiful. I love the Chrysler Building and find the Empire State Building quite nice, but I'd always hated the World Trade Center. But as a beacon out to the ocean from this vast and sparkling city, they made sense to me. The best way to view it was from above, and that's how I remember them.
Tonight, the lines of sky were delicate hues of gold and rose and aquamarine as we landed with delicate blue-grey clouds chasing the sky. I thought there was a huge bank of lighter blue clouds on the horizon. Then I realized the sky was so clear, I was seeing the Blue Ridge Mountains behind the darker foothills. I'd never thought of Dulles being that near the Piedmont region.
I finished watching the sunset from the people mover.
It was a long and tiring day. I'm home. And I had a chance to savor beauty on the journey.
A digression: I don't understand why everyone doesn't fight for the window seat. Seriously. People get on and CLOSE THE WINDOW SHADE. Why? I have two magnificent memories of flights where it was clear all the way and all I did was look out the window.
The first was when the moon was at its perigee in the late nineties. I flew to my parents' in Los Angeles from Boston. The moon was rising just as we took off and it was clear the whole way. The Mississippi River nearly made me cry in its silver glory.
The second was around the same time (1999 or 2000). I'd visited family in DC and was flying home. It was a clear day and as we went up the Chesapeake Bay, I finally understood the idea that a beach, if approached at the microscopic level approaches an infinite length. The little twists and turns and filigrees of the water against the shore were so detailed and beautiful, then we were over open water for a few minutes and something caught my eye in the distance. Manhattan was to our left crystal clear and sparkling with the World Trade Center looking so grand. It was the first time, only time, I ever thought those towers were beautiful. I love the Chrysler Building and find the Empire State Building quite nice, but I'd always hated the World Trade Center. But as a beacon out to the ocean from this vast and sparkling city, they made sense to me. The best way to view it was from above, and that's how I remember them.
Tonight, the lines of sky were delicate hues of gold and rose and aquamarine as we landed with delicate blue-grey clouds chasing the sky. I thought there was a huge bank of lighter blue clouds on the horizon. Then I realized the sky was so clear, I was seeing the Blue Ridge Mountains behind the darker foothills. I'd never thought of Dulles being that near the Piedmont region.
I finished watching the sunset from the people mover.
It was a long and tiring day. I'm home. And I had a chance to savor beauty on the journey.