…So I’m sitting here in my window seat writing, staring at some particularly fluffy clouds only partially obscuring my vision of the land beneath. Some of the cloud peaks are magnificent reminding me of mountain peaks; others of peaks of whipped cream. Still others are spread out and breaking up like ice floes on a tranquil sea of sky blue. 
I’m all ear budded up with my iPod, listening to Pretty Hate Machine. I’ve settled into that unique cocoon that you can get into at 30,000 feet – where you can consider your world, your life with a decidedly dispassionate view – like you’re somehow apart from it all.
I was thinking about sketching some of those clouds but I’ve changed my mind. My muse is telling me to record what I’m seeing in words instead.
Sandy earth below
Streaky sun through the window
Climbing higher now
Velocity up
Acute anticipation
Tomorrow’s mys’try
Mountain peaks or clouds
Clear vision or optic trick
Beauty is constant
Ear buds snuggled in
Music easing heart and soul
Turbulence warning
