Leaving Philly Thursday evening, the sun looked misshapen and mis-angled taking off. It looks more like a deep red-orange boomerang and less like a deep red-orange crescent. As if leaving the ground, I'm suddenly seeing the sky from an angle not usually available. Not simply the height.. as if the act of leaving the ground in any connected way changes the dimensions somehow. The flight itself brings me down to an almost comatose level. I tried reading when we first took off, but I was overcome with fatigue and couldn't shake it remotely until our brief re-fueling detour. ("High winds" kept us from landing in SF for 3 hours.)
More, much more, later.
It's really nice to be able to step back into your world, look around and smile.