There’s something so magical about flying.
To think of this hunk of metal filled with people and weighed down with stuff as it hurtles down the runway, groaning as it heaves itself into the air, but then suddenly soaring…
It fills me with wonder.
I am not one of those people who keeps reading during takeoff. No – a window seat for me, please. I press my nose against the glass and mentally gasp at all the sights.
I don’t ever want to become one of those people who doesn’t press their nose to the glass. I don’t care about the opinions of others either, so I will continue to gaze about and gasp, sometimes audibly.
While I was on jury duty, I was often in the corridor for air traffic on its way to the airport. Planes would fly overhead, not too high off the ground. One day I stopped at a nearby Shoppers Drug Mart on my way home. As I stepped back out of the store, I was suddenly engulfed in a shadow, and then a split second later, back in the sun. As my heart pounded, I tried to figure out what had happened. It was the shadow of a plane that had scared and then delighted me so. What a world we can live in, where we can experience this wonder and delight!
Sometimes when I fly, I think of that moment I experienced on the ground. Flying from Toronto to New York City a few years ago, the plane’s shadow was clearly visible on the ground below. I watched it for quite a while, racing along below us, as it temporarily engulfed houses, cars, boats in shadow. Did anyone down below feel that sudden flash of fear and then wonder?
Right at this moment, flying anywhere feels like a far off dream, too dangerous and with nowhere I’m allowed to go. But I will still remember and smile at my memories of flight.