Some of the most beautiful sights I have beheld have been during flight. It is an incredible magical thing, that first flight. Or the first flight you absorb the beauty surrounding you. A passenger can afford to consume every detail of every cloud or mountain or pasture because they are not bound (as the pilot) by instruments, controllers, and such.  You can ingest the sheer awe of it all.  There is nothing like it.

Magic.  That’s what it is.  Magic. Early morning, when the air is smooth as glass. When you can see light rays reaching into the sky, washing away the shadows of night, but the sun has yet to show it’s brilliant face. Hardly a cloud in the sky or anyone else for that matter. Just the silence and the beauty.  The earth lying peacefully below while, you up above, flying, floating, watching a new day dawn, watching the sunrise. 

And then there are other flights.  Flying in South Texas during the summer, when there is a storm here and there. Exciting and frighteningly beautiful. The ground shows patches of light and dark.  Weaving in and out of the clouds, you can see the rainbows going from cloud to cloud or cloud to ground. And a little rain here and there in patches. You watch and see which pasture the rain falls in and which has perfect sunshine.  The forces of nature dancing their waltz are breathtaking.  And speaking of rainbows, let's not forget the rare once in a lifetime phenomenon of the complete rainbow.

Flying through the desert just after a storm you notice a rainbow in the distance and it gets closer instead of running away, mocking. And before you know it, you are passing through what seems to be a giant bubble.  It is a circular rainbow. An absolutely unforgettable event.  A complete circle, it is all around you, and then just like that it is gone. Behind you, an optical illusion in the sky. But it was real.  Real and magical.

And finally there is the box of jewels.  Night flying. Lights dancing above from the stars and below from the city. Sparkling lights all around.  Looking across the countryside from city to city, they appear like jeweled oasis. And looking into the sky you are once more showered with brilliant jewels. 

All these visions still so fresh and clear in my mind. More beautiful than I could ever describe, than the greatest poet could explain.  My memories of flight. My Freedom of flight.  And to whom do I give credit for supplying me with such dreams and memories?

The answer:  Richard, the pilot who showed me the world through a 2’x3’ window.

Amber