fly away

There are some sights from 40,000 that you never forget, even years later, and any trip that takes you over the Alps is certainly one of them, right? Add to that a memory of cruising down the snowy slopes on one of those tiny red sleds from the top of Chateau d’Oex, and you can certainly imagine heaven. Whenever I pull this vision out I am certain to break into an easy smile. Guaranteed.

Topography becomes very real from the sky: all the sharp rises and swift descents that form our land masses take on mythical proportions and spiny delight from above. The vastness of our small planet never ceases to astonish me as I fly east to west, north to south or any combination actually. What a wonderful world we inhabit, one that does make you want to sing; but in all seriousness, I truly do want to see every acre on Earth.

Clouds. I have seen every hue of white and gray and pink and even black clouds while flying through all sorts of good weather and stormy days and even those big fires that dominate whole seasons nowadays. Regardless, climbing above the clouds, bursting into the blue, is worth all the turbulence and uncertainty you might encounter getting there.

Man made landscaping dominates many terrains, generating another kind of majesty. Roads cut across rolling hills and valley floors connecting us together, while city parks offer green space and clusters of community resources surely are a wonder and accomplishment to all the city planners down below. So often those visionaries got it right. You can just applaud the ease of moving commerce from above.

Being a water girl at heart, these splashy features are another delight from a lofty vantage. Rivers, oceans, great lakes, I love a view of any body of water from above. Watching the marine industry manage as they do just fascinates me as well. Whether for business or pleasure, ships rule. Understanding shifting currents and nautical safety is complex at its core and I find myself filled with admiration for those maritime pilots navigating harbors and water ways.

Perhaps it is because so much that I love is nestled in the golden lit streets of Los Angeles and because it is truly the City of Angels and the City of Dreams, and was home to me for a time, I love flying into LAX at night. Sunset Boulevard runs for dozens of miles straight west into the Pacific past every icon and landmark you might imagine, from the Griffith Observatory, the Hollywood sign, Rodeo Drive and Beverly Hills and all those twisty canyon roads in view. Any history that is still visible from above is eclipsed by the newness of massive stadiums to accommodate the big leagues and towering high risers defying common sense in a place rattled by earthquakes. But all that is okay by me. I arrive ready to play, walk the beaches, hike the hills, find the novel and new, and revel from any vantage that shows the sun set into the ocean, all the while holding my dears tight. Ready or not, Los Angeles, here I come, again.



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