The Awakening

This morning I woke up way earlier than I ever normally would to get on a plane to fly to Idaho to visit my incredible cousin (and as it just so happens a good friend as well), and I was beyond tired. I checked in at rhe airport, went through security, and found my seat on the plane I was assigned. It was normal; usual; nothing special: I've flown on planes all my life. BUT. As we took off into the foggy void, I watched San Diego blip away into toy model-esque nothingness and was about to turn away from my window to eat the bagel my mom kindly made for me earlier when I was completely blinded by the sun as it came over the horizon. And there I sat; completely entranced. Light was everywhere, it felt like I was swimming in an ocean full of it. And despite our increasing altitude, the rays pouring in through the hole in the aircraft's skin brought a warmth that passed right through my body and brought my being to life. The world I was looking at did not seem to be our blue-green rock that we all know and love; it was something else entriely. The clouds formed an endless sea of rolling hills and valleys. The occasional mountain poking its brown head through looked as out of place and alien as a Lamborghini parked at a high school's student lot. The infinite landscape below absorbed, mixed, and reflected the sunbeams in all directions, turning its perfectly white surface into a beautifully majestic gold that the most elaborate palaces in the world could never replicate. Eventually the plane rose into another cloud bank; this one impenetrable to the sun's influence. But the image of what I might almost call a separate reality is burned into my memory. I pray I don't forget it when this flight lands.