One morning, I was driving my father-in-law to the airport when a plane flew silently over the road like a big bird, about to touch down at the airport.
"It's magic," my father-in-law said. I looked at him, without knowing what was happening.
He was a doctor who gave speeches at colleges and had visited more than 100 countries. He understood better than I why a plane can fly in the sky. It, really, wasn't magic. But now, I realize he was at least right in some way.
Though flying might not be magic, it's certainly magical. What it brings to our real lives is something found in our dreams.
But too often, we, especially I forget. I read a sentence a few months ago. It said, "You know you're growing-up when you no longer want a window seat."
Too often in recent years, I've asked for a seat near the exit row, forgetting the wonders of traveling fast. But sometimes, when the Wi-Fi's not working or my computer has no power, I remember to look.
I think of one time when I was leaving on a family vacation. Moments after take-off, I started working. But a passenger behind me wouldn't stop talking. "The clouds!" he kept saying, "Look at the clouds!"
I turned around, and saw two men, one who appeared to be in his seventies and the other much younger. The chat continued for 20 minutes until, not patiently, I raised my eyes from my computer screen and looked out of the window.
The clouds!
He was right. We were floating through big soft balls of cotton, each in different shapes. They seemed easy enough to touch. The afternoon sun provided all kinds of colors, all against a blue sky. I put away my computer and appreciated(欣赏)them for the rest of the flight.
I don't remember the work I felt like I had to complete that afternoon. I've never forgotten those clouds.
