Travel … or Escape?

I am a writer and travel is my muse. Almost every time I board a plane or a train or even get into a car for a road trip my mind begins to work up some sort of story or thought. I have napkins full of scribbled thoughts. I have filled the margins of the magazines in the seat pocket. I even used an airplane “barf bag” once or twice to get my thoughts down on paper.

Flying soothes me. It’s uninterrupted time with my thoughts. No calls, texts, emails, Facebook, work, or any other distractions from time with myself. I read a bit, write a bit, and doze a bit. But, most of all, I enjoy the time to just think.

Sometimes my thoughts wander to my destination, perhaps something or someone I want to see when I get there. I’ve gazed out the window and written about something I could see — the sun rising above the clouds (or setting), the patchwork of fields below, the blur of trees as my train passes through a woodland.

Ahead of our trips, Greg and I always talk about what we plan to discuss in the air, instead we end up comfortably retreated into our own personal head spaces, while holding hands or leaning on each other. The fluffy bed of clouds outside the window evokes relaxation … literally thoughts of floating on a cloud. I love flying for that reason. Even when I’m headed somewhere I‘d rather not be, I find myself in a peaceful, contented cocoon of quiet. Airplanes don’t just take me to fun vacations; they take me above the heavy thoughts that surround me on the ground. Flying is an escape.

There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored … escape sometimes!

Night Flight

We’ve been chasing the setting sun ever since takeoff. Even now, as we cross the Rockies, there’s a hint of dusk on the horizon.

The moonlit landscape below is magnificent. Snow and mountain make dappled patterns in the moonlight. Desolation all around, except for the occasional ranch or small town sitting in a valley below.

Even on this moonlit night, stars twinkle in the ink-black sky above. I am transfixed, unable to take my eyes off this wonder. But look away I must, for my neck is sore from turning my head toward my window on the world.

I watch the other passengers, heads down in their phones, on their laptops, some asleep. “Look outside, people!” I want to scream. There is beauty in the moonlight, but it is temporary. They have missed it. I have not.

There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored. Go see it … at night.