There aren't too many things in life stranger than a 19-year-old young woman strutting through the O'Hare airport in an Aladdin tank top with a stuffed bear strapped to her back and her nose stuck in a Jane Austin novel.
What makes it even stranger is that she is on her way to Philadelphia to spend the night with her cousins, and head into Manhattan tomorrow to see Aladdin on Broadway. How many 19-year-olds can say that their childhood dreams became a reality for their birthday?!
My first plane landed in Chicago at 7:05 p.m., and a potty break, 2 tram rides, a Starbucks drink, and 3 gate changes later, I'm sitting at gate B14 awaiting my second plane. Which departs at 9:29. So I have awhile...
Looking out my window as the plane took off, I couldn't help but think of all the differences in scenery. There was nothing but greenery; trees, fields, and the occasional road, but mostly hay bails. And flying into Chicago, it was absolutely majestic descending into skyscrapers that swallowed the plane.
I can't help but wonder what kind of view God has of the world. Is it the view we have from planes? Does He squint through clouds or does He see every block and street, square and lake, trail and tributary clearly? Or does He have a view like Google Earth? Where He can see and has knowledge of absolutely every single detail, but can zoom in on whatever he wants?
It's probably some God trick. He probably has a way of viewing the world in a way that He never thought to tell me, and probably doesn't think I need to know. But I believe that God gave us the ability to build planes so that we could not only feed our hunger for adventure, but also so that we may have a taste of what He sees; a chance to view everything he made in this world in its absolute entirety from a view we cannot get with our feet safely on the ground. This, to me, is the beauty of travel.
I love being on planes. There's nothing else to do but talk to a complete stranger to get to know another world, read a book to escape into another world, or to think so that we may marvel at the view of our own world when we do not otherwise take the time to do so. Flying is the only time I consider our world to be more extraordinary than that of a novel. Looking out the window of airplane is a privilege; it's where I do my best thinking because it's when I'm best at marveling. I'm terrible at noticing God's beauty unless I am happy, and I'm far happier when I'm on an adventure or in a big city than I am when I am at home bustling through my everyday life.
Even though I'm flying into Philadelphia instead of LaGuardia, the atmosphere is close to the same. And there is nothing more beautiful, no...astoundingly breathtaking, than flying into the city at night. I'm so glad that I did not have an early morning flight. Even though the wait would have been less excruciating, I would not be able to enjoy the city at the time I love it best. At night.
The sun is setting. It is almost dark here in Chicago at 8:33 p.m. My plane is being checked for maintenance and I will be boarding soon. I cannot wait to ascend into the night sky, and begin thinking again, before I slip away into the world of Emma, or slip further out of either world into a state of slumber.
My cousins, Les and John, will be waiting at the Philadelphia airport. As for now, my laptop will have to be powered down since I'm boarding soon. I'll write again once I'm home again, not in my hometown but where my heart belongs; in the city.
