Up early this morning for a 6am flight west to Seattle. Probably the best early morning flight experience I've ever had, largely, it is sad to say, because Mary wasn't here: when I turned off the light right around 11 she wasn't here going through her slower and later bedtime process. And I didn't have to worry about waking her up at 4 in the morning. That's about it for the upside. I'd still prefer her to be home.
An easy flight west, had a row to myself in the rear of the plane. Turns out that if you aren't being squished by others, being in the rear isn't so bad. Was able to easily get coffee off cycle, for example.
Somewhere over Eastern Washington or Idaho I looked down at the ground below and could see narrow swaths of farmland in the alluvial plains below low mountain ranges. It took me back to reading McPhee's Basin and Range earlier in the summer and its explanations of geological time scales. And also to the fact that that was only the first of five books he wrote about hanging and traveling with geologists. Whatever else will he write about in the next four books. I can't wait to find out.
Over the last couple of hours I watched a 2021 Spanish movie called El Planeta, a black and white film in which an elegant Spanish woman and her stylish daughter try to get by on nothing without selling their furs or designer clothes. It was amusing in a dread-full way.
Out here in Seattle it's 79, sunny and dry. The barista at this cafe for some reason referred to it as "hot."
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