I don’t get super excited whenever I go on a plane. But I don’t dread it either. I always make my self comfortable with snacks and a book or two to read and some quality headphones. I have even figured out a way I can peacefully sleep on a long flight when the sky has gone dark and the cabin lights have been switched off. But there is one thing about flying that I love.
It doesn’t have to be sunset or sunrise, just cloudy. Being in an airplane, with not only the clouds above you, but you above the clouds, is simply crazy to me. Seeing puffy white clouds, the kind that you draw in the sky for a cartoon, or the lazy streaky clouds that just barely obscure the sun below you is… beautiful? astonishing? weird? I don’t really know how to say it.
When ever you think about the ‘layers’ of the earth, it goes ground, then houses/buildings/plants/people, then air and sky that goes on and on. And in this never ending abyss that is the sky, are clouds. Clouds that are above your head. And the ground beneath your feet. But up in a plane, there is no solid earth beneath your feet (besides the hunk of metal which keeps you from plummeting down back to solid earth). Instead, there are clouds beneath your feet. Clouds, which are supposed to be above your head, are beneath your feet.
You are above the clouds. Odd isn’t it?