Peculiar places: airports

I'm writing this to you in a notebook while reclining in the belly of a SouthWest Airliner. Below, me, the fluffy avalanche of Toy Story clouds spill across the face of the earth, like someone had gone crazy with the shaving cream or something. Beside me, the sun glints off the tip of the blue and red wing. The little girl in front of me peaks between the seats at my scribbling, but turns away when i glance up. Above, the sapphire sky canopies safely all around. The flight attendants hand out complimentary snacks, and soon the scent of salty peanuts spreads like butter through the cycled air. Airports are peculiar places. Most of us have entered them at one time or another. Either for the arrival or departure of a loved one, or for our own means of travel. I think they're peculiar because they're pretty much the only place where people come together at one time from all the corners of the world and congregate in one place. each with their individual stories. And it's the start of something big. Something that 200 years ago was said to be impossible. That's why it's peculiar. Strange. Unusual. As we said goodbye, scanned our boarding passes and walked down the terminal, I felt a mixture of excitement and fear swirling around me. we put our bags in the overhead bins and grab a pair of seats. And this is where you find me. So i'll just munch my over-salted peanuts and anticipate our landing in Orlando.