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Flyboy

May 28, 2010

I love to fly.  It’s like a roller coaster for me.  I smile instinctively when the plane taxis.  I’m electrified when we cross the giant stripes at the end of the runway.  The engines open up and roar.  My back presses firmly into the seat.  The ground outside races by.  I hold my breath as the wings grab onto the air.  The plane noses up.  The rumble of the runway changes to smooth rushing wind.

From a plane, I’ve watched glorious sunrises over fluffy clouds.  Earth and trees have seemed to wash off of bare peaks into broad valleys—veined by streams that gather into rivers and lakes.  Inside airy galleries, towering clouds have created vaporous sculptures.  Sunsets have painted in brilliant palettes across rugged mountaintops and velvet skies.

Flying has its hassles, to be sure.  Get there early, park a mile away, stand in long lines with weird people.  But, the same hassles can be found at amusement parks.  And when I get off the plane, I haven’t looped in dizzy circles, I’m someplace else entirely.

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