Waiting for takeoff, I managed to board with all my goodies and my Keylime pie, my yogurts and surprise, my papaya and banana breakfast, so I can have real food versus pretzels on Southwest where they starve you, and greet you and then feed you pretzels. So I discovered that I can get through TSA with a flask of milk for medicinal reasons—ulcers—that’s good to know for future reference.
I must admit that I am glad to be going home, I’ve been away from home for a long time and it was tearful saying goodbye to Justa. What makes it so hard to say goodbye to choose to was the realization that I will never see her again alive. She kissed my hands and I returned the gesture. I’ve grown quite fond of her. And we had some good laughs.
The plane faces a long climb through the cloud layer, we dance toward the sky. My ears object to the long steady climb. I have to remind myself that I’ve been much higher than 10,000 feet. Above the cloud layer is a Ukiyo-ë realm, subtle pools of light and darkness. My sunglasses provide respite from the intense glare. Not much to see, other than clouds. Hopefully when we approach Denver, there will be something more to see. Still I am happy to have a window seat finally even if there is nothing to see. I am popping my ears constantly, especially after yesterday‘s snorkeling.
We land in Denver, the jaunty white party tents of the airport mimicking the Tetons. I pass a busy hour in the Denver Airport while waiting for my plane, it’s unbearable. I cannot stand being around all these people and find myself sneaking into corners to escape the crowds. I certainly don’t want to wait in line for food. I eat a yogurt for dinner. Denver to Oakland, the long light over the land, an endless sunset to the west coast, and a cloak of darkness descends over California. Home again, jiggity-jig.
The plane faces a long climb through the cloud layer, we dance toward the sky. My ears object to the long steady climb. I have to remind myself that I’ve been much higher than 10,000 feet. Above the cloud layer is a Ukiyo-ë realm, subtle pools of light and darkness. My sunglasses provide respite from the intense glare. Not much to see, other than clouds. Hopefully when we approach Denver, there will be something more to see. Still I am happy to have a window seat finally even if there is nothing to see. I am popping my ears constantly, especially after yesterday‘s snorkeling.
My right ear was bogarting seawater, as I swam too close to the crest of the reef and a wave plowed into me. The Grecian rocks reef is quite a ways offshore from Key Largo. It is, in essence a barrier reef. The coral and seaweed were spectacular, and I only recognized a few kinds brain coral fire coral etc. they were gorgons and tuna kids and hydrazone a rich plant animal life a Textron garden. I gave up on the go Pro camera and took a page from Ram Dass: Be here now. The sea garden was a rich nursery for small fish.
We seem to be overwater, over the gulf, the sun from my left and I see Fort Jefferson and the Dry Tortugas. Another snorkel bucket list. Maybe someday. I’m just happy to see blue skies above the cloud layer. There’s nothing to photograph but I am at the ready.
The aspirin I took an hour ago was finally getting a toehold. Denver is four hours away. I will need another round by then or before then. I was awake at 4:30 AM and I’m now so groggy but there is no way I am planning to drink the community coffee.
We are traveling a liminal boundary between the cloud layer and blue skies. We are neither here nor there. Ghost tendrils of clouds above and below. The gulf below reflecting the sky. The edge of the cloud cover is like an endless prairie of sorts. Below me is the sunken coastline of Florida, and the barrier islands, like ancient calligraphy. Soon we cross over into Louisiana, and then follow the serpentine traces of Old Muddy north toward Denver. All that water on the landscape, reflecting myriad eyes of the sun.
I cannot bear the thought of pretzels. I don’t like them on a good day, but that’s what’s for lunch on Southwest. Maybe I’ll be brave and spelunker into my magic bag and raid my provisions, papaya and banana for breakfast.
We seem to be overwater, over the gulf, the sun from my left and I see Fort Jefferson and the Dry Tortugas. Another snorkel bucket list. Maybe someday. I’m just happy to see blue skies above the cloud layer. There’s nothing to photograph but I am at the ready.
The aspirin I took an hour ago was finally getting a toehold. Denver is four hours away. I will need another round by then or before then. I was awake at 4:30 AM and I’m now so groggy but there is no way I am planning to drink the community coffee.
We are traveling a liminal boundary between the cloud layer and blue skies. We are neither here nor there. Ghost tendrils of clouds above and below. The gulf below reflecting the sky. The edge of the cloud cover is like an endless prairie of sorts. Below me is the sunken coastline of Florida, and the barrier islands, like ancient calligraphy. Soon we cross over into Louisiana, and then follow the serpentine traces of Old Muddy north toward Denver. All that water on the landscape, reflecting myriad eyes of the sun.
I cannot bear the thought of pretzels. I don’t like them on a good day, but that’s what’s for lunch on Southwest. Maybe I’ll be brave and spelunker into my magic bag and raid my provisions, papaya and banana for breakfast.
I’m listening to the first book of the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. I’ve seen the BBC series, but Alexander McCall Smith is such a delightful writer, one has to also view him in print. In this case, by audiobook. However number one in the series is a bit somber and nowhere near as funny as book 21, How to Raise an Elephant (No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency) which had me snorfeling in the aisle, literally.
We land in Denver, the jaunty white party tents of the airport mimicking the Tetons. I pass a busy hour in the Denver Airport while waiting for my plane, it’s unbearable. I cannot stand being around all these people and find myself sneaking into corners to escape the crowds. I certainly don’t want to wait in line for food. I eat a yogurt for dinner. Denver to Oakland, the long light over the land, an endless sunset to the west coast, and a cloak of darkness descends over California. Home again, jiggity-jig.
Old Florida blogposts.
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