Returning to Air Travels

It’s been two years since I’ve been on a plane, and the last time I traveled alone sans family and friends was five years ago. I used to fly 20+ hrs every 6 months when I was in college. I had air travel down to a science, but apparently time played tricks on me.

I made rookie mistakes at every turn. The night prior to hopping on the plane, I frantically texted my friends to confirm the travel documents I needed. Is it just a driver’s license? Do I need my SS card!? I used a giant duffel bag, half my size, instead of a roll-on and lugged it through terminals. I forgot I needed a boarding pass. I was the last to board my flights, every single flight.

But the biggest rookie mistake I made was forgetting the effect travel has on me. Once we were above the clouds and saw sun rise, the patchwork landscape, rivers creating beautiful channels, I marveled. What an incredible thing that we can be in the air. 

Whenever it was that childhood wonder left me, I took traveling for granted. It was a mode of transportation. The only way we traveled abroad, to any city. Efficiency and convenience dictated air travel — aisle seats always, layers of lounge wear, try not to start any conversations. If you’re on a 12-hr plus flight, these rules were my necessities. Aesthetic, poetry, community laid to the wayside.

Now being able to be in the air again, it almost felt like experiencing it as a child again. How will I choose to use this time? I drew on the window with my breath. I read. I stared. I people watched. I snoozed and left a giant puddle of drool in my mask. I wrote. It was beautiful to be in the air again.

And even more miraculously, I landed in the desert valley, an otherworldly landscape.