Inches of the Earth

I am so often overwhelmed with creativity and happiness in airports and while crammed into the tiny quarters of airplane seats. I don’t know why.

There is just nothing better than traveling.

In airports, like this one in Atlanta, people are miserable. Everyone's tired and crabby, roaming around like zombies, pissed off there flight was late or there's nothing to do or everything grimey. And then there's me... happy as a pig in shit, curled up with greasy food and some luggage in a rock-hard chair by the window (from which I have a lovely view of airport hangers and parked cars). My pleasure in merely being in an airport is probably enough to irritate all those around me. But what the hell.

It's just... The world is so big! And from the small window of the plane, I get to see spaces — inches of the Earth — that I’d probably never otherwise see… and will probably never see again. But I swear, I’m a better person for seeing them none-the-less.

I’m talking about the insignificant, unexciting patches of land that pass beneath as planes sore overhead. Forests and hills and tiny country neighborhoods, like the one I grew up in, where little kids are just getting out of school and playing outside and hearing the rumble of jet engines. And then they’ll look up and see this plane and wonder where it’s going, just like I did when I was a kid.

But what’s most exciting for me, is that even on this little trip to Savannah, from my plane window I will have seen well over 1000 square miles of the planet. Earth being some 200,000,000 square miles total, I haven’t really put a dent in it… but I’ve seen more than some. And that’s an empowering thought.