Stars above me in a black sky.
Stars below me too. The man made kind though, glowing like some foreign amoeba under a microscope.
It's Thursday night and I'm in the air, somewhere between San Antonio Texas and Charlotte North Carolina. Hanging like a cloud. The sensation of emptiness beneath my feet. I've never been much of a flier. I can't think about all that space between me and the earth without getting a nice case of the "willies".
So I do my best not to think about it. I read a book. I shift in my seat. After about 2 hours my sciatic nerve starts to numb my right leg. The fellow beside me in this flying tin can is nice enough not to comment about my constant stretching and shifting. Everyone is pretty quiet though, absorbed in their Amazon Kindles and their IPads. Someday they'll have a term for people bent over their electronic devices like that. I can't blame them though. If I was a chronic business traveler (like my seat mate), I'd be looking for some kind of entertainment too. (This was his 5th flight this week. Cross country too).
We're all in suspended animation up here just trying to get from point A to point B with as little fuss as possible. A few people try and nap. Fortunately, it's a smooth flight. As we start to descend, I look out on the twinkling earth and crave to be on it. I want my feet on the ground, it's where I belong. I'm an Earth Sign...You know astrology. I'm a Taurus. I wonder if that's why I like to garden and have such a strong desire for my home. My nest. My little bull pen.
We land and I glance back at my coworkers. Everyone looks relieved. Another safe landing. We're on the ground.
Where we want to be.