Flying

Last time I flew was to Belfast for training, in January. On the way over I saw range after range of hills, the morning mist still floating over the lakes that nestled between them, the sun reflecting off of them. Watching the sun rise, the light changed slowly from orange to yellow to white, mist changing to cloud and then dissipating into bright blue sky.

Flying into Edinburgh at night, I can see individual villages picked out in spots of light, see the roads lining up, watching the hamlets get closer and closer together, white lines joining them together until eventually there's no space between them and it's all one big conglomerate. Then we hit the river, a huge swathe of limpid blackness, reflecting the lights from various directions. Ahead of me the familliar landmarks; The castle on the hill, Princes Street on one side, the long slow slope dropping down towards the river, taking in Hugh's old house along the way.

Flying into London a few years ago, the traffic backed up and were put into a holding pattern over the centre of the city. Three times we passed over some of the most famous landmarks in the world; Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament, a whole slew of bridges and huge blocks of Oxford Street shops. Flying back I took off from the City of London airport, passing close by Canary Wharf and flying almost directly over the Millenium Dome.

When I'm that high up, it feels like I can almost see the patterns in God's mind.

I like views like that.