I’m grateful for airplanes.

Today, the sad thing is all over the papers, the call that the MH plane crashed in the ocean off Perth (it seems to have got really far off course). It’s awful, all those poor relatives, with no real closure, no bodies to bury. No goodbyes.

I do want to just quickly say, though, that 777s are wonderful planes. Some of the nicest rides in sky. I know they pollute carbon dioxide, but I can’t help but be grateful for planes. So many new adventures now exist because planes exist. No, they don’t travel at the speed of the soul at all, and I hate jet lag, and they spit me out desiccated, tired, cranky, achey and antsy, and I can’t do long flights with any sort of grace, but look at how much it has changed our lives, outlook, sense of space and time. And if that’s not a collective human adventure in itself, I don’t know what is.

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Send me sunshine, light and love! :) Constructive criticism is also welcome.

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