It’s a sunny afternoon as we make our descend into Lisbon. I smile at the changing landscape below. We circle over where I assume the river Tagus joins the Atlantic ocean; the sun rays reflecting off the blue waters would make for some good photos but I continue to squint my eyes and watch from the corner of the window. We fly over a reddish suspension bridge that looks a lot familiar and I quickly turn to hubby, who is buried deep into this new book he bought at the airport, to ask him about it. By the time I manage to pull him towards the window, the bridge is far behind and we are flying over red rooftops, colourful houses and what looks like a bustling city spread up, down, and all around small hills. I forget about hubby leaning in to see the view, and unable to resist anymore, I begin to click a few photos excitedly.
Fast forward three weeks, I find myself pulling closer to the window again, leaning over the empty albeit useful storage box by the side to look at the Atlantic spread all around. There are clouds floating by the side, and I am floating among them as I glide from one clear view to another. Hubby is comfortably asleep and I decide against waking him up for the view we are fast approaching. He is sitting too far to enjoy much of it anyway. I pull out my phone and click a few from all angles of the window to get the best filters, best views. I am so excited I want to unbuckle the seat belt and go to the window on other side to capture the cityscape that is slowly beginning to appear. After all, New York has the best cityscape in the world. I feel angry at the couple who are sleeping away to glory, missing the gorgeous view outside as the plane tilts and glides and turns! Hubby is up and he catches me glaring at them. I make fish faces at him when he says ‘next time!’.
Rewind to July last year, we’ve just taken off from Oviedo, in north Spain. As we ascend into air, I begin to fill my phone memory with sights of the sea playfully waving at the rocky shores, the wings stretching, and the land merging with the sky in a distant, hazy horizon.
Ah, the joy of flying!
I love how we zoom past and cover distances. More than that, I love catching glimpses of the vastness of our earth and sheer beauty in the scenery that unfolds every time we ascend from a city or descend into one. Peeping out of the window, I feel so insignificant in the lap of nature, and yet significant enough to have realised and understood that. Sitting in a plane gives me moments to think slowly and enjoy some stillness, although just on the outside the plane’s wings are cutting through the winds and traveling at speeds I cannot fathom at all. Sitting in a plane makes it all relative. And, ever since I chanced upon that realisation I haven’t stopped to enjoy the spectacle, the sight, the perspective, the silence in my thoughts, the constant buzz of wind against that window and, the absolute beauty of relativity in life!
And, ever since, I have always tried to grab a window seat.
Its only fair to share some of those photos here, won’t you agree?