Flying Weather
I started to travel being 3 month old. My mother was the youngest in her family among other 12 kids. I was born when all my cousins were married already and had their own kids. My mother was 39.
My mother's mother, mom-mom, lived in the other city and was a very old woman. My parents drove all the way to her place to show me. She did not live to see my baby brother. I took car rides pretty well until I turned 6 and for some reason I became carsick every time it moved. The only way I could bare a ride was if I was sitting in front. That was always an issue with the police but we got over it.
The first time I was on the plane I was 3. It was flight to the mom-mom's place. This time we went to see my aunts. My brother was born and my mom was busy taking care of him. I was placed at my own disposal in the limits of the plane. I remember running like a lunatic between the rows with my arms starched aside imagining I was a tiny plane, the one that flies low over the cornfields. Sometimes I wonder where is that child now during my long hours spent on plane boards. Now I prefer to sit quietly. My favorite sit is by the window where I can see sky, clouds, sun and the wings.
I don't like the actual flight. It makes me nervous. I can wait patiently for about 3 and half-hours but that's about it. The flight journey to USA was the most difficult because it took me 8 hours in an iron can. That scares me.
I don't like actual flight, but any airport is my second favorite place in the world. (In case you might wonder what is the first, it is the Ocean). I am mesmerized by planes landings and taking off. Call me crazy, but there is something magically special about it. I like to see how in just seconds a small black mole on the sky's back is growing bigger and bigger and finds its form. I am fascinated to see how this big iron bird is landing so gently and softly, quick and suddenly goes slowly. I flew so many times, I know exactly when chassis are to be let out, when flaps are to be open and exact moment when the plane is ready to lend. I applaud every time it lands. I don't know why but it always has been a tradition, long before birds started to crash like shot. The same goes about a plane taking off. I like to watch how the plane accelerates and disconnects with the ground.
Landing and taking off are my moments I like to feel over and over aging being on the plane. I might get over actual procedure of being stuck between iron walls but it is all worth the speed it takes me to my destination and these two moments. Landing and taking off are my rewards for putting up with the flight.
Every time I drive on New Jersey turnpike I can't help but staring at the Newark Airport. I can't help not turn my eyes and then my head in the direction a plane is taking off. I can't help not to search the sky for tiny moles soon to be planes.