The flight connected the East Coast to the West, from Newark, New Jersey, to Orange County, California.
When the clouds obscured the scenery, I drank in, laughed and cried to American Wino, by Dan Dunn, an author I met at a beer-tasting event. (Recommend.)
I spent the rest of the six hours looking out the window at this vast expanse of variety known as the United States.
My iPhone captured the ever-changing pure awesomeness of our landscape. The grid of cities, farmland, wind farms, solar arrays. The lines of endless highways and winding rivers.
The Earth's patterns tell stories of long-gone waters. Dry and getting drier.
The improbable patterns of russet and sand of those seemingly uninhabited places in between so-called civilization.
The frightening smoke and haze from wildfires.
So my spouse could see, I'd try to flatten myself against the seat.
Marriage. That's why we crossed the country. For a wedding. Something my lover and I did 20 years ago next month. Since then, I've gotten to feast on my favorite features, my husband's big blue eyes, sexy nose and sparkling smile.