One day I’ll fly away,
leave all this to yesterday.
Why live life from dream to dream,
and dread the day when dreaming ends.”

How many planes are taking off right now, and how many are landing? Is there any symmetry to the timelines and destinations? I know there are flights that occur daily, and the rhythms that happen, of take-offs and landings, is something to count on, rely upon, plan an escape to.

I wonder if you watched from the window from that room up so high, could you tell the time by just watching the planes ascend into the smog filled Los Angeles sky? I suppose it is a more precise measure than a newly acquired wrist watch, especially when you trade one timezone, for another.

I will always remember that airport, and the significance it has to me. The trips taken, the people met at baggage claim, or in hotel doorways, and the future adventures that may, or may not, take place. I have maps and travel books stacked on a shelf, the one I sleep next to. I take them out often, lay on the floor and peruse the street names, cafes, places of so-called interest – and I dream, wish, want and desire.

I miss the sound of the planes on the tarmac, the sight of the lighted towers that change colors, blinking off and on, and I miss the feel of an over-filled suitcase dragging behind me, and a ticket to ride between my fingers. I miss what it all once meant, and what it still means, to me.

One Day I’ll Fly Away :: Nicole Kidman from Moulin Rouge

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