I’m sitting in a metal tube with 35 other people.
We’re hurtling through the sky at an incredible velocity, thousands of feet above the skin of the earth.
Looking down I can see sensuous green snakes of water, coiling and writhing back on themselves in wide wet swoops.
I can see blocks upon blocks of city streets, packed and buzzing with the lives of the people that live therein.
I can see miles of blue sky dotted with white puffs of water vapour. Pillows of cloud skid along on an unseen track, buffeted by the invisible air currents.
I can see all sorts of beauty from here in the sky, and it is wondrous.
I know that if I were outside in the blue, I would choke on the lack of oxygen. I would also plummet 35,000 miles to a rather gruesome end.* But I also know it would be quiet. Silence would press upon my eardrums. The sun would beat down on me, unhindered by the screen of cloud, and I would be warmed by its rays.
Maybe I’ll go skydiving one day.
* “A quick drop and sudden stop!”