Beauty In The Skies

I’ve always enjoyed flying, in a sense. As a dual British-American citizen, I love the fact that I can get on a plane in one country and within less than a day be standing on the ground of another country. And despite the frustrations of security, and the endless waiting, and being squeezed into a seat between strangers that (despite the cheerful predictions of friends) do not lend themselves to sleep – it still amazes me that I can go such a distance in such a short period of time, relatively speaking.

One of the things I love about flying that far above the earth is the sudden surprise views that appear – I’ve settled in, started reading or watching a film, maybe adjusted my ipod to listen to music, and then I glance out the window and there is a vista that appeared out of the clouds. I’ve seen majestic sunsets and glorious sunrises, clear views of the land below – I remember an incredible view of the Grand Canyon once that impressed me almost as much as seeing it ‘live and in person’.

Today it was a combination of clouds that made me feel I was looking at a different world. That’s one of the aspects of airline travel that you get nowhere else on earth – the feeling that you have transcended one world and have been given access for a moment to another. A science-fiction feeling, almost: it could be anywhere, and nowhere, and somewhere all in one. Pale gauzy clouds drifting lazily above…a thick stream of cloud just above what appears to be a horizon…mountainous clouds that could be land, or sea, or cloud…and a flowing sea of cloud that looks like waves, rolling and tumbling and yet making no sound at all. And a glimmer of light shining in from the side, as though to light up this eerie world from a source I knew not.

It was an unearthly beauty, and I drank it in. It disappeared so quickly – clouds rolled in and we flew on and soon there was nothing of general interest at all, and I went back to my book or my music or whatever had captured me before. But I won’t forget this beauty of the heavens – because for me it’s a reminder that there is another world, high above this one that we live and move and work and walk on. There is a heaven that can’t be imagined, and sometimes we get a little glimpse of it.  "It has always seemed to me, ever since early childhood, that, amid all the commonplaces of life, I was very near to a kingdom of ideal beauty. Between it and me hung only a thin veil. I could never draw it quite aside, but sometimes a wind fluttered it and I caught a glimpse of the enchanting realm beyond -- only a glimpse -- but those glimpses have always made life worth while."  (L.M. Montgomery, Alpine Path)  Flying is one of those privileges we have that reminds us that we are actually quite small and insignificant, and our little world that we think so much of is quite insignificant, also, when compared with all the other worlds we’ve forgotten about – and the greatest new world that we will one day be catapulted (or drawn slowly) into. It’s hard to believe, when I’m tired or sick or weary or weighed down with cares, that this world is so short and will one day disappear – and it will all be the new world, the impossible-to-believe world, the new heavens and new earth for those who have seen beyond this one. Because if this life is the best you can imagine, there’s not much waiting for you. But if this world pales in comparison to the possibilities, what beauty will one day be seen!