Thursday, September 24, 2009

“You know why late flights are good? Because we cease to be earthbound and burdened with practicality. Ask the impertinent question. Talk about the idea that nobody has thought about yet…Be Poets.”

-Jeremiah Bartlet on The West Wing


That whole flying at night thing is superbly underrated, as far as I’m concerned. If I have my way, all of my future flights will be under the blanket of moonlight, surrounded by infinite flowing clouds and radiant stars.

I had always thought the above quote was incredibly romantic but never had the chance to understand the meaning firsthand until my recent connecting flight from Denver back to San Antonio. As the plane picked up off the ground, I decided on watching a movie, even though it would cost an unreasonable eight dollars. “Watching a cute movie at night is one of my favorite things anyway and it would be cool to see one on an airplane” I justified to myself as I searched for the needed earpiece in my polka-dot carry-on bag. After an unexpectedly strenuous search through the contents – which included, but was in no way limited to, my lip gloss, gum, books, ticket stubs, digital camera and iPod – my hands finally fingered the slippery headphones, tangled together and buried deep beneath the rest of the airport necessities. Just as I triumphantly plugged them into the armrest, the plane made a slight turn which caused me to absentmindedly glance out of the circular window and into the vast, moonlit sky. At that moment my eyes were met with the fullest, most inconceivably beautiful moon I have ever known. Without realizing I was doing it, I heard myself audibly gasp and let out a very dreamy, very loud sigh. Immediately becoming aware other people might think I was a nut job for making those noises while longingly gazing out of an airplane window, I timidly turned my head to face the others in the cabin. Feeling a wave of relief, I observed that I was not the only one taken aback by the awe-inspiring sight that was the righteous hunk of reflective rock before us. Reassured my unspeakably high social status on the plane filled with strangers indeed remained intact, I turned my attention back to the alluring nighttime vision right outside of my window seat.

The minutes that followed were the kind that a person does not easily forget. You see, there is something about being that close to the starry sky that seduces the senses to a point of no return. Casting the thought of the eight dollar movie purchase out of my mind, I unplugged the earphones from my armrest and returned them to their true home, my iPod.

After a few decision-making seconds of scrolling through the song options, my mind was dancing to the melodies of Let Go by Frou Frou, Delicate by Damien Rice and Death and All His Friends by Coldplay, to name a few. It took only a couple of chords into the first song to begin day-dreaming extraordinary dreams; I was completely lost in the shimmering abyss before me, and the moment was perfect. As the minutes went by and the dreams revealed their entire selves, I started to recognize these fanciful dreams as familiar remnants of my imaginings from the past. This got me wondering…why is it that I ever stopped dreaming these dreams to begin with? They are obviously things I still want, things still deeply planted in my heart, so how did I lose sight of them without even realizing I was doing it? I don’t know if I lost hope or hunger for those dreams therefore they gradually tapered off into the world where all of those lost dreams go, but I do know this dreamy late night flight brought desire to have them back, which was a magical happening all on its own.

As we were soaring near our destination and the end of our flight, the pilot relayed the weather conditions and time in my sweet San Antonio. After he seemingly finished by offering his thanks for choosing their airline, he added:

“Don’t let the reality of being stuck on the ground stop you from dreaming big. Take care everyone.”

My heart jumped as the West Wing quote flashed by my mind. I walked off the plane, feeling the cool air hit my face and sweep up in my hair. I took a deep breath and smiled knowing my enchanted nighttime flight home inspired more desire than I could ever have expected...and I haven’t really stopped smiling since.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

A wonderfully evocative piece of prose writing Lesli. For a few moments whilst reading it, i was there on the plane with you :)

Good luck with your blog and future writing endeavours.

Paul Haynes

Juniper said...
This comment has been removed by the author.