Merging with Nature from my Plane Ride

I boarded a 7 am flight from Orange County, California to Philadelphia for work-related travel. As soon as I boarded, I got on my laptop to check emails and review my work plans.

The first time that I glanced outside from my window seat, the breathtaking view of the ice-covered Rockies grabbed me. Mother Nature sent me an inviting nudge to soak in the moment, and it felt good.

I zoomed in on my phone camera and saw valleys and mountainsides in different shades of dark grey on Mother Nature’s giant canvas. As the plane moved forward, the chiseled lines of roads carved across the plateaus felt snuggled into the mountains’ contours. A couple of snow-covered peaks on the far side merged with the clouds.

I was back on my laptop until headwinds gave our ride some turbulence. I confirmed my seatbelt is still on as per the captain’s announcement. I looked outside, and there was one more surprise waiting for me.

I saw a dark color impression on the mountains. For a second, I thought it was a lake. As soon as I connected it with the cloud hovering over it, it dawned on me that the shadow of the cloud painted dark hues on the mountain on a sunny day.

The dark grey color bands on the earth showed shadow effects, letting me know those were valleys in the mountain range.

When I looked outside again, I spotted a small township nestled among mountains. A lake sat in perfect harmony with its surroundings. After a few minutes, I saw the color-block patterns on the ground looking like pieces in Mother Nature’s giant puzzle, fitting together seamlessly.

By this time, I was intrigued to check the outside views. I lucked out with the window seat, where I could get good coverage of the outside area without too much obstruction from the aircraft’s wing.

The cloud layers looked like a white sponge that’d bounce me if I jumped on it.

The cloud layer began to lighten. The deep blue peeking through the clouds reminded me of the ocean.

There was probably a small township. From up high, it looked so embedded in nature.

We got out of the cloud layer. I zoomed in and could see the imprints of towns and villages on the landscape. From up there, they looked blissful and abundant.

The captain announced our approach to Chicago, with landing in about 20 minutes. It was fascinating to see the progression toward ORD Airport.

It was probably a Chicago suburb on the west side: it looked crowded compared to the mountains and open lands. However, the green all around, with tiny dots of houses, probably indicated those were massive estates.

Chicago downtown and Lake Michigan looked crisp on a sunny day.

The landing plan seemed to go over Lake Michigan, then approach from the east side. I could imagine the city humming along the lake’s shores.

The downtown high-rise buildings clustered in the bottom right of the picture looked stunning.

After a few hours of layover, I was back in the air on the connecting flight to Philadelphia. It was a quick hour-long trip. I was in a window seat on the other side, and it was fascinating to see how the perspective shifts when the aircraft wing is on the left.

The cityscapes crystalized in the window view as we got closer to Philadelphia. It was my first time flying into Philly.

I boarded the flight with my mind flooded with work milestones and timelines. The views from the window opened up my mental landscape, infusing it with calm, peace, stillness, excitement, and wonder.