Is there any more commonly available magic than air travel?

I have always loved the window seat. I’m a middle-aged man and I still love the window seat. Even though I’m more prone to close the window shade than not these days. The sun’s glare on my laptop’s screen is always inconvenient. My bladder isn’t what it used to be and I should probably select the aisle seat more often. But I still love the magic of the window seat.

The gaze out the window feeds my love of the magic of flight.

This morning’s flight into Denver was smooth enough even though there was rain and low low clouds over Blucifer’s domain. I didn’t mind the early wakeup for a dark, 5:20a departure. We were 20,000 feet into the air before the first hint of twilight.

But a window seat on an early morning flight into Denver from the west after a snow fall is hard to beat. I love tracing the summit lines, the crisp mountain lakes in pine valleys below impure conical shapes. Having put away my laptop and tray table, those last 30 minutes looking out the window are delightful.