The roar of the engine is deafening, harsher than any beast’s unnerving call. It fills the cabin reverberating off the low ceiling and making the overhead bins tremble in terror. My seatbelt strapped, I dwell on how it is difficult not to think of the airplane as an aerial leviathan, overtaking the clouds, belching fire and smoke as it rends through the skies. He sits next to me, an unaccompanied minor, going to visit his father. His delicate oval face betrays nervous excitement as he cranes his head to investigate the business of passengers settling on board. The sound of the filtered air overtakes the engine and soon the pilot and attendants add their voices to the babel. Wanting the ride to be over I wriggle uncomfortably to find the least unwieldy position before I close my eyes. As the plane begins its taxi off the strip, I catch the boy shyly peek over me to look out the window. His eyes widen in perturbation as the people and then the building and then the earth itself dwindles into toy size beneath us. I offer him my window seat and he eagerly accepts. Though the warning signs are lit, we surreptitiously exchange seats. He watches silently as the rivers devolve into faded ribbons and the mountain ranges turn into ant hills. Then everything turns into colors and shapes: vermillion, jade, azure, saffron until we seem to be flying over an enormous patchwork quilt. The cloud cover thickens and soon a marshmallow blanket enshrouds the land below us.
“What is that,” he asks, turning to me and pointing at the window?
“Clouds,” I reply, looking over his shoulder.
“Clouds?” He doesn’t seem to believe me and presses his face against the window for a clearer view. “The same ones we look up at in the sky?”
“Yes, we are flying above the cloud cover.” He stares at me shocked and suddenly I feel an intense remorse, for this inverted sphere of aeronautics is no longer a revelation to me. When was the last time I had been so awed by the magic of being above the troposphere? As a child I used to fantasize about owning Aladdin’s enchanted carpet yet I was impervious now to the one that took me in a matter of hours from place to place. There are plenty of quieter ways to travel, but none that embody as much frightening wizardry as the airplane. The boy is subsumed by the scenery outside the tiny glass square, but he has got me recalling what a wondrous thing it is to be conveyed inside this metal tube to anyplace I can imagine.
“Without knowing how to fly I too can soar like the birds.”
The entire process is mysterious, not because I do not understand the physics behind aviation, rather because my knowledge does not detract from the marvel that is the act of flying. I find, despite my travels, it is easy to lose my sense of wonder for what I observe or what happens. I begin to think that the planet has run out of thaumaturgy, but it is I who have dulled my senses to the miracles surrounding me.
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science,” Albert Einstein wrote in his book Living Philosophies. To both children and adults mystery is important for it is in asking the question we move forward; it is the unknown that inspires us. So, my rekindled wonder gives me hope for the future that our impenetrable lives will influence future discoveries. It gives me hope that someday we will transport ourselves through a pristine atmosphere in an ecological world. It gives me hope that both I and the boy next to me will hold onto our sense of awe as we journey through each day.
BT TRAVEL TIP #8
Any destination or subject will become interesting if you bring your curiosity and a sense of wonder to it.
What is an everyday occurrence that has suddenly stopped you in your tracks? Is there something you love about flying?
I love this story. It is so sweet. The pictures really add the effect of the story as well
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it!
I love how you wrote this story. It was fascinating to read and I love your commentary on the story.
Thank you very much.
Sometimes it takes a child to open our eyes. Over the years, I have alternated between wonder, panic, and then calm when on a flight. It is not a comfortable mode of transportation for me, but necessary.
There have been several instances where a child has given me a different perspective! Do you prefer trains as a more comfortable mode of transportation?
Yes, I definitely prefer trains, if the trip is not too long.
I can’t find the right word to express how much I love this piece of writing! It truly captured me in a state of complete wonder and awe, reflecting my own thoughts when I’m on an adventure haha 🙂
Well, I think you did find the right words. 🙂 Thank you so much for stopping by and for your wonderful comments. It’s always inspiring to discover that the stories we publish here touch people.
I was utterly captured by this beautiful piece of writing! I started reading one blog post and soon found myself wading through several more! Love the style of writing! So alluring!
Thank you so much! We are always happy to hear you love our stories.
Something that people from other parts of Canada find difficult about the west coast, is a closed in feeling. My experience with my grandson was not one of awe for him. We walked through a forest nearby and he wanted to get out. He hated the giant cedars towering over him which was what I enjoyed. Glad your experience of a child in awe was more inspiring.
Your grandson is a perfect example of how different adults and children see the world differently. Some people love cities and don’t really care for the outdoors. I would never imagine trees to be suffocating, although large skyscrapers often make me feel this way. Does he enjoy landscapes like the Canadian Prairies, which are more open? Or the seashore part of the western coast?
He was visiting me here in B.C. from Australia. Loves the beach and was brought up in Malta where there’s not a tree in sight!
Oh wow! Quite the international child. Dare I ask what he thought of your beaches?
It was winter and if you’ve lived in Australia it’s hard to find better beaches. It was his first time in the snow and that was his biggest treat (plus seeing me, I hope).
What a beautiful story. Nothing so magical as viewing our world through the eyes of a child, and such a journey as this one, a magic carpet ride indeed 🙂 Also to let you know I’ve tagged you for the Black & White 5 Day Photo Challenge, link here: http://sherrimatthewsblog.com/2015/03/10/flight-of-the-tiger-moth-black-and-white-secrets-and-flash-fiction-2/ No obligation… 🙂
Thank you Sherri. We look forward to checking out your black and white photos!
Thanks BT 🙂
I’m one of those who travel with my nose glued to the window, alternately flipping my glasses on and off as I try to capture some of that wonder with my camera. 🙂 I rather regard those clouds as the enemy when they swathe around me and then suddenly there’s a glimpse of earth and I’m craning to try and identify it. No- I haven’t lost the wonder yet, AG 🙂
And I hope you never do Jo!
On my next flight I will try to recapture that childhood fascination. A wonderfully written post.
Thank you Sue! I cannot imagine that you are a person who gets easily jaded despite your many travels.
You are right. I am like a little kid when I get to the airport. Well minus the tantrums. 🙂
Tantrums? You? Never. 😀
I think it was Dr. Seuss who said that adults are just outdated children. I agree whole-heartedly. But if we are lucky, then every once in a blue moon, we may see through the eyes of a child once more. We must remember to borrow their glasses more often.
Indeed! It gets so difficult to keep that constant sense of wonder as the years go by.
Love this story! The clouds! So great to see the world again through the eyes of a new traveler.
Thanks. It is so easy to get used to the world around us. As an adult I am trying hard to return to always having that sense of wonder about my environment and appreciating this amazing Earth we call home.
Thanks for sharing this story. It’s a real treat to look at something with a child sitting next to you.
That is so true! Children have this innate ability to think and see things that often gets lost in the process of growing up.
A beautiful read & marvelous photos, Bespoke did it again!
Thank you for your kind words. 😀