Flying
I have flown a lot. I've been flying since I was a babe in my mother's arms. I do not revel in the sights and sounds at airports anymore. The ordeal is as mundane as wiping my butt after a shit. It's part of the process. But flying in itself - soaring above civilization, closeted in an aluminium can, separated from the frigid low-pressure air outside by 3 to 4 inches of ice-crusted windows - is always awe-inspiring! This is why I always prefer to sit at the window. I especially enjoy watching the sunlight skid and bounce off shifting clouds and distant buildings. Dots of reflecting light competing for space in the horizon against the overbearing sun. Leaving civilization behind is quite momentous. The captain(s) inform you of their agenda (or whatever they deem fit to convey to us mortals merely sharing this aerial vehicle with them) and within seconds, you are hurtling down a roadway at an acceleration hitherto unexperienced by terrestrial beings and suddenly you cann