Do I gush when I say miraculous? Actually, I do not. Because when you grow up on car travel, as I did, on seemingly interminable slogs from Lexington, Kentucky, to Los Angeles, San Francisco or other points west, boarding a jet at 7 and being on the opposite coast before lunch will never cease to amaze me.
What awaited me on the other side were family and friends, blue skies and fir trees. Here's Mount Baker from a Columbia City, Seattle, rooftop. It's the same mountain that illustrates Friday's post, which I captured from an earlier plane trip.
It's become a beacon now on these cross-country flights. When I see it, I know I'm almost there. It always appears sooner than I think.