July 19, 2010
We call them skyscrapers and we think of height. We tilt back our heads and our torsos and look up up up until our heads are full of words like ingenuity and daring and power. And man. We sense that important things happen upon platforms so high. We think of wealth. Expenses. Our mouths drop open at so much weight.
But when we—and I mean I—land back in a state where the sky is scraped by fewer metal limbs, my mouth again opens, this time from relief, because—there is so much air here, so much blue, and I can view its entire expanse, a big smooth face that is shining and warm and light.
All day today I have been thankful for how much of the world I can see with my feet planted firmly on the green brown ground, how good it feels to be under these uninterrupted skies.