My flight left at the ungodly hour of six thirty in the morning.
All the times I’ve ever been on a plane, the sky outside has always been clear and bright. Pretty, but, you know, commonplace. But Puerto Rico, — the North part, at least — has been under a blanket of clouds this past week, and so everything outside the oval glass looked particularly magical this time around.
Then all at once the sun burst out of the clouds. And I was reminded of something John once said in one of his Thoughts from Places videos:
I did get to see the sun rise from thirty-six thousand feet above the ground. And it occurred to me that until a century ago, no one in all of human history had ever seen that.
And that’s pretty magical too.