The moon rose early with me this morning. It was peaking out from the dark rain clouds as I drove to the airport at 4 AM. My eyes are so tired, I cannot read my book anymore, so I will give writing a try. I am on the flight to Ft. Wayne and the sun is rising now, to my right, with a lovely pink glow coming up over the quilt-like bumpy blanket of clouds on the horizon. Glowing sunlight is now brightening the cabin. It's quiet. I want to sleep, but I cannot.
We are flying through some thin, wispy clouds that are awash in a pinkish hue of the rising sun. It's beautiful to see the world from this perspective. Did earlier generations (before planes were invented) ever wonder what the earth and clouds look like from 34,000 feet? Of course they must have. We are so privileged to get views from this height.
I am dreaming about breakfast. I have been awake so long now that my mouth is watering for some biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. And coffee. Lots of coffee.
The sun has invoked my sense of awakening, though I am still so so tired. When I left St. Petersburg it was 64 degrees. Ft. Wayne is 28 degrees. Snow is in the forecast, which excites the redhead Floridian who is writing these muddled words. The plane is hitting some turbulence so my handwriting is getting messy and it's hard to write. Perhaps the plane doesn't want to fly to a colder place. Everyone in the plane groaned when the pilot told us the temperature in Ft. Wayne was 28 degrees. I guess I am the only excited one.
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