i inherited from my mother the sudden onset of wistfulness when seeing a plane take off. i think its impossible ascent made us feel locked to the land and whatever catastrophe we'd invented about our lives in that moment. the sonorous jet climbing out of reach made our own predicaments seem that much more precarious by contrast. where were all those tiny people with their tiny windows and tinkling cups of ginger ale going, and what extraordinary happiness was waiting for them?
the tragic romance i had with these magic buses has lessened over the years, probably because flying in and out of los angeles is like a drugless root canal. or maybe because what i have and where i am has more meaning to me now. i'm more grateful, and hopeful that at any time, i too can depart and arrive, capture some new bliss, and depart and arrive.
black friday planes, lax.
No comments:
Post a Comment