…about the music

An old cheesy cue, but I still like the music.

The view across this archipelago just after dawn, courtesy of my seat on Kenmore Airlines last week. You get a lot for your flying dollars here: not just a lap belt, but a second, full harness belt to sling across your chest should you have any doubts as to how the flight will turn out. I think I may have used it the very first time I flew this route, not wanting to tempt fate. Now, almost 30 flights later, my formerly white knuckles have long since returned to their natural calm pink. Rather than mull over what a sudden water landing might feel like (uh, very cold, in a 52 degree ocean), I mull over the impossible power of glaciers grinding across this area 15,000 years ago, and how the serendipity of gravity created such grace.

Still half asleep when I pointed my camera into the little plexiglass window, I was enamored of the softness of the smoky pastel tableau. As always, I had to remind myself why I was leaving for a few days. And as always, I immediately thought ahead to the beauty of this palette, seen later in the afternoon with the plane’s nose pointed north, not south. Going away is filled with the promise of invigoration from the outside world. Coming home is filled with that from within.