I love to hear the sound of planes flying through the night. I am under a roof, covered in the safety of my blanket, and darkness surrounds. Then I hear, not see, the familiar sound of a thousand winds soaring as one through the infinite night sky. There is something about that sound that resonates in my soul every time. I don’t know how that happened, or when in my life hearing such a thing made such an impact. It just always does.
It’s so surreal to know of something occurring up in the air, beyond reach and out of sight. The world is sleeping but someone is flying. It is a vast expanse this stretch of sky, and to roam it, is bravery.
I suppose I am always reminded of my own times in flight, how glorious those moments are! For I am always headed somewhere exciting, somewhere better. Adventure and love await me at the end of this journey through the heavens, and though I land back on earth…I steal a piece of sky with me. Perhaps this has conditioned me to always love the sound of flight. It brings me back to so many places in one.
Looking out the plane window is always breathtaking, whatever time of day. Sunset above the clouds — out of this world extraordinary. You could never be the same again. When it’s all black outside, your heart is filled with fear, trepidation, and praise of its Creator. How magnificent, how terrible! How is all this possible in the blink of an eye? I always imagined what it’d be like if I were stripped naked of the layers of glass separating me from the universe out there…I can’t. The screen through which I view the emptiness and eternity of space makes it unreal for me. It’s like I’m watching the most beautiful film ever made. And I can’t believe what it’d be like to actually be in it…walking the clouds, looking at the cold distant stars. Do any of these have souls? How are they all just…there?
When I saw the deepest blue in the summer of ’07, I felt that was the colour of God. I felt it was God, how could it not be? It was just so incredibly deep, rich, the colour ran for fathoms and fathoms deep into infinity, and there was so much soul in it. It had to be a symbol of the Almighty if anything else.
I feel that with flying, it gets me a little closer to God each and every time. Thus, as I lie on the edge of slumber, to hear the sound of flight…is to feel God, awe and joy in my heart. I know He’s up there somewhere. And the world He walks…is amazing.
