Up, Up and Away

The Outer Banks from way up high in sky

Odd as it may seem, there's something liberating about being confined in a steel tube with 170 other sneezing, coughing, belching humans (not to mention screaming munchkins), cruising along at about 500 mph,  35,000 ft. above precious terra firma.  Every instinct in your body tells you you should be dropping like a stone.  Or, better still, you never should have been able to leave the warm embrace of the runway in the first place.  It just doesn't make sense…two oddly shaped metal surfaces, protruding from each side of the tube,  have the mystical power to actually LIFT prodigious amounts of weight far into the sky.  No way. Yet, way.

But I must not dwell on that.  Actually, I do love flying, with one exception, not including the process of actually getting to the plane.  I would kick about 1/3 of the passengers off the aircraft, so the rest of us could enjoy some breathing room.  There's just too damn many people squeezed into these things, plain and simple.

On my trip to Florida recently, I flew directly over the Outer Banks (See "My Unvisited Gem" - 3/13/14).  As luck would have it, it was a cloudless portion of the ride, and I could actually contemplate life and love, past and future, hot fudge sundaes, lobster rolls, golf swings, favorite movies, bucket lists and other fancy stuff, as I dreamily cast my eyes upon the vast landscape far below.  Millions of people within the scope of my vision, all with their own little trials and tribulations, all traveling their own road this day, a fair number of them also pondering the ultimate meaning of it all.  In a carefee moment, I was left to reflect on the fate of my fellow earth mates, before clouds secured the scene and all context for thought was removed.

Ah  yes, back to the OBs. How impressive they appear,  a seemingly unbroken line that protects the mainland shore from harm, while providing people a get away to paradise.  In a way they resemble  nature's containment boom, like the ones used to protect land from the ravages of an oil spill.  So much sand, so many miles to walk, so many wonderful miles.

Looking at them makes you wonder  how they got there in the first place.  Seems like they were perfectly formed for their purpose, which leaves out any idea of a random piling up of broken sea creatures and rocks.  The same elements that deposited the Cape (Cod, of course) in its unique position and prominence also worked their logic and magic to form a perfect blend of utility and beauty, all for our protection and ultimate enjoyment.  Like the Cape, they will one day disappear, but luckily for all of us, that day will never be a concern of ours.

So, if you can't make the Cape, head for the Outer Banks. Revel in beauty.  Enjoy the moments, memorize the views.  Walk the sand, drink in the salt breeze.  Promise to return.  You don't have your whole life, you just think you do.
                                                                                                                                                                                         
Mark Twain Quote:  "We despise all reverences and all objects of reverence which are outside the pale of our list of sacred things.  And yet, with strange inconsistency, we are shocked when other people despise and defile the things which are holy to us."