I really, really love flying. Whenever I'm in a plane I feel like I have to soak up all the stimuli, take advantage of the rare opportunity to see the world spread out before me in such a strange and containable way. How few people who have existed ever saw the earth from a height greater than maybe ten or twenty feet. What did I do to deserve such a splendid and unfamiliar sight?
In the wedge of the wing is framed our mountain range. I enjoyed scanning the coastline that I had driven along a month ago, recreating my trip in fast-forward. The plane was filled with empty seats, so I stole across the aisle multiple times to catch the best views. My fellow passengers probably thought I was crazy, but I almost felt obliged to absorb it all.
We landed in full view of Point Loma. I'm constantly amazed at how San Diego always smells like scented flowers and happiness.
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