In the early morning hours of Friday morning, the trip map on the plane indicates that we are about to cross over Ireland. I look out my rectangular porthole window and I am eye-to-eye with the moon. Or so it seems cruising at 32,000 feet. The full moon illuminates the white landscape: we are layered between rippling clouds that stretch as far as I can see.
On the second plane, from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro, I am excited to see my daughter. I can't sleep so I watch 3 movies. (we are in the air for more than 8 hours). Precious, Lovely Bones, It's Complicated. Quite the selection, I know. When we land, it is 8:06 pm, the walk across the tarmac is hot and muggy. As we wait in line to get a visa in Tanzania, I turn on my phone (it has been shut off for the 8 hours we were in the air). A message from my daughter appears "missed my flight ....ha ha. Be there at 23oo." At first I thought it was a joke -- it is the kind of joke that she would do. I just knew she would be on the other side of the door as we walked through customs. But, she did miss her flight. It would be 4 more hours until I get to hug my daughter.
4 comments:
I can feel your anticipation as you await your reunion with Meg. So glad your journey has been good so far.
I'm glad you arrive safely. Looking forward to more new as time goes by.
Now this is some lovely writing: "In the early morning hours of Friday morning, the trip map on the plane indicates that we are about to cross over Ireland. I look out my rectangular porthole window and I am eye-to-eye with the moon. Or so it seems cruising at 32,000 feet. The full moon illuminates the white landscape: we are layered between rippling clouds that stretch as far as I can see."
Thanks, E. I am overwhelmed.
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