airplane delights

Just some little sentences, quick delights, really, jotted down on a tiny reporter's notebook during a flight from Burlington to Raleigh yesterday. Enjoy and remember that the world is full of delight!

That swooping feeling in my stomach when this hunk of steel actually lifts off the pavement into the foggy Vermont afternoon.

My nose, pressed hard against the oval window in breathless awe as the earth below us dropped away and so did the clouds.

The thin line of white on the painfully blue horizon, so far away I can't even estimate the miles.

My Converse, tucked up under my legs, the white laces coming quietly undone.

The world laid out so perfectly, rivers and roads crisscrossing beneath my feet, like a map I could almost touch if I tried.

Being far away from home.

That innate longing for my friends beating loud in my ribcage, blooming tropical flowers and tiny planes and the little red notifications that I get when they text yet again.

This pen, glittery pink with a fuzzy blue-green ball at the top that I want so badly to rub against everything, writing in blue-black ink that won't run out.

The adorable children in the seats next to and in front of me, whose commentary is almost too sweet to bear. One's father, when the plane sped up to take off, placed his hand protectively over his daughter's seat belt while she happily chirped, "Sup-ah-speed!"

Having no idea where I am, above this massive, slightly blurry & fogged-up country. Having the delight that it doesn't matter.

Noah Kahan soloing in my ears, words that I know all the steps to. All the breath.

Another swooping feeling when the plane's wing tipped up and we began our descent; that tiny, almost relieved laugh that bubbled up in my throat when the wheels touched the ground.

Weightlessness.