Dear somewhere above the clouds,
In my head, I’m somewhere up in the skies marvelling at the different sculptures shaped by the clouds. I forget about that uncomfortable plane seat as I let my thoughts drift away daydreaming about the next adventure. How will it be? What people will I meet? What food will I be raving about? What place will win my heart and which will I want to leave immediately?
What is it with those window views that make me sentimental? Is it this feeling of the unknown, the uncertainty, the slight discomfort? Or rather the undeniable excitement, curiosity in its wildest form or just anticipation? On some flights, it’s a mix of all, on others none of those ingredients is used in the cocktail of plane emotions.
Oh, dear window views, when will we see each other again?
I will never not pull out a map in my mind or occasionally use the map on my phone to see where we are and whether or not I can identify anything that is revealed by the clouds. Is this Greenland? Or might is it the first stretches of Canada? Have we even left Europe yet?
How can people prefer seats in the middle or aisle? This is a mystery that I won’t ever solve. In some cases, I would rather get on the next flight with a window seat than being stuck in the middle of the plane. I wouldn’t want to miss the sunrise or sunset above the clouds for anything. Can someone explain?
The only way to distract me from looking on the world underneath might be the flight attendant handing out immigration forms before the window watching continues.
Let me sit next to the clouds, and I’ll forget about anything for a few moments.
Until then, take good care,
Read my other love letters
Pin this for later