They rarely look as beautiful as from heights.
Ascending or descending on a flight out of London, we left the winter behind briefly for the tropics.
A taste of guilt lingers from the flights there and back. All that carbon burned directly in the atmosphere is a crime. I should offset the carbon, but I haven’t. I will before the end of the year. Life is a balance; we each do what we can, but we should all probably do better.
I find flying transformative. Leaving the ground for hours, shrinking the perspective of every day life, immersed in the atmosphere, lifted up to peer over the garden wall, revealing that we live on a planet.
Clouds sweep up off the heat from the land or the sea, accumulating, dispersing, flattening or breaking through a boundary layer, rising up to the top of the shot, a cap, snowy peaks, and the curving edge of the horizon.