Thoughts while flying back home from Singapore. Feb 2016.

Flying over the desserts and mountains of the world in the heat of the day brings the reality of our smallness but it also brings home how powerful we are. 

Above the cottony clusters of clouds there is perpetual summer. Up here in the stratosphere where the air is thin, the skies are always clear. There is no weather up here and it matters not whether the weather down there is wild and windy, or wet. Here you can see forever and the snow below lies peacefully pure and untouched. 

The long roads stretch out into the distance and disappear into the haze of the horizon leaving no hint of their destinations. I gaze down and wonder who walks there, who is looking out of a window hoping for the future. I want to walk along those roads, invisible. 

From up here I can watch ships, like beetles in a bathtub, leaving white wakes on inland seas that dazzle my eyes with light.