Jan. 16th, 2011

Voyage

Jan. 16th, 2011 08:58 am
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My friend K told me once that, while she prefers to stay in one place, be a home-body or hang out, I really love to travel.  That I love to travel was not news to me, of course; what was news to me was that not everyone did.  I had always assumed that the love of travel and adventure was something shared by everyone - that if finances and circumstances allowed, everyone would travel more. 

If you ever want to experience air travel like it used to be  -- where you had an even chance of having an open seat next to you so you could actually move -- then take a flight from sunny Phoenix to Omaha on a winter weekend.  Save for this flight, it's been years since I've been on a plane that had even one other seat available.  And since I usually travel with B, and since he prefers the window as it has slightly more space for his shoulders, I am inevitably in the center seat of a row of three chairs. I am typically trying to maintain a bubble of sqwook-ness around me while on a flight - not to maintain actual personal physical space, as there is none to be had, but to at least keep my emotions centered and positive.  

During this trip, no such mind-created protection bubbles were necessary.  I curled up on the seat and read a book. I piled my water bottle and make-shift lunch on the seat next to me.  I took off my shoes and wandered around in my socks.  I hopped from window seat to window seat, trying to gauge which had the best view of the mountain ranges. 

Then I landed into Omaha amid a soft-pink sunset, pink sky above and pink-tinged snow below.  And now I'm visiting with my sister in Lincoln, Nebraska.

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