रोज द राइटर डिसलाइक रिपेयर मोमेंट इन एवरी फ्लाइट
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One hectic morning, early in my marriage, I was driving my father-in-law to the airport. While navigating the snarling highway traffic, my mind looped through to-do lists, calculating how long it would take to drop him off, say goodbye and make it cross-town to the office. Then a jet glided silently over the road like a giant heron, about to touch down at Dallas-Fort Worth Airport.
"It's magic,” my father-in-law said, interrupting my restless thoughts. I looked at him, confused.
Here was a doctor who lectured at colleges and had visited more than 100 countries. He understood better than I the Bernoulli principle that keeps planes in the air; how the miracle of flight is actually no miracle at all but a simple physics equation. It definitely wasn’t magic.
But thinking back now, I realise he was at least partially right. While flying might not be magic, it’s certainly magical. What it brings to our lives, our perspectives and our outlooks is undeniably the stuff of dreams.
But too often, we – I – forget.
Views over Ecuador peek through the clouds (Credit: Credit: Larry Bleiberg)
Views over Ecuador peek through the clouds (Credit: Larry Bleiberg)
I read a tweet a few months ago that struck a little too close to home.
“You know you’re grown-up,” it said, “when you no longer want a window seat.”
You know you’re grown-up when you no longer want a window seat.
And too often in recent years, I've found myself sweet-talking gate agents to land a coveted aisle seat on the exit row, forgetting the wonders travelling at near the speed of sound. But occasionally, when the wi-fi’s out or my laptop battery is depleted, I remember to look.
One night sticks out to me. I was heading home from California and connecting in Texas after a challenging work trip. Delay piled up on delay as storms marched across the region. When we finally took off, hours late, it was pushing midnight. The crew dimmed the cabin lights and most of my fellow passengers were asleep in minutes (or at least closing their eyes and wishing they were).
I was about to follow suit when a flash of light caught my attention. The thunderstorm that had snarled air traffic that night still had some life. Our pilot had routed us 100 miles to the north of the weather system, providing bleacher seats for the performance.