Flying the Unfriendly Skies

I loathe it.

I really do.

The entire process…from standing in a circus line at security, so my identification and boarding pass can be examined as if I'm Charlie Manson and Ted Bundy combined…

…from kicking off shoes, standing in my socks, pushing my belongings along a slow-moving conveyor belt towards the x-ray machine, all the while listening to some pseudo-agent bark at everyone about removing their liquids…

…from the dreaded random pat-down, where some total strange lady gets to rub her hands all up and down my junk, touching me in places that not even Hubby has touched in years...

…from herding up as we board the plane…stuffing our carry-ons and laptops and pillows and jackets into miscroscopically-small storage bins…

…from squeezing into too-small seats, strapping on a too-tight seat belt, and hoping my neighbor isn't the size of Fat Albert.

I hate flying. I hate the turbulence. I hate the hassle. I hate the claustrophobia. I hate the chaos.

But…when you're flying along and you look out your window and see the most incredible, jaw-dropping beauty unfolding in front of you…?



…Priceless

Such was my view today from Kansas City to Milwaukee to Fort Myers…and after seeing this, I knew that everything would be all right.

Peace.