As I stow my bag and buckle my seatbelt on my flight to Vegas, I excitedly await my favorite part of flying. Takeoff. The sound of the engine. Being pressed against your seat by the velocity of the machine you are traveling in. Feeling the earth leave you, first from the front wheel, and then the rears. Watching your relative world zoom out a hundred miles at a time as you slip through air and clouds.
Is it obvious that the science nerd in me geeks out over aviation? I always have, really, in one way or another. Being the daughter of an avid museum goer, the air & space sorts are my favorite. I get why people learn to fly, and I kind of love all things airplane. I secretly want a collection of wooden propellers. I've always wanted to skydive. I have an affinity for old leather bomber jackets and aviators. And if Top Gun isnt one of your favorite movies, we can never be friends.
Maybe it's the hundreds of years of aviation history. Maybe it's the speed required. Maybe it's the feeling of cheating death. Maybe it's the view from above and seeing everything you know differently. Im not real sure, but I've decided that I feel for clouds and the atmosphere what some feel for sunsets or the ocean; closeness to your maker and such. A genuine appreciation that I'm even here and able to be a part of the bigger picture. A change in perspective, I guess.
