It was a night flight from Houston—almost perfect visibility. You could see the lights from all the little Texas towns far below. I was sitting next to a fifty-two year old woman who had never been on a plane before. Her son sent her a ticket and said, “Mom, you’ve raised ten kids, it’s time you got on a plane.” She was sitting in the window seat, staring out. She kept talking about the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and pointing. Suddenly I realized she thought we were in Outer Space, looking down at the stars. I said, “You know, I think those lights down there are the lights from little towns."
night flight from Houston
night flight from Houston
night flight from Houston
It was a night flight from Houston—almost perfect visibility. You could see the lights from all the little Texas towns far below. I was sitting next to a fifty-two year old woman who had never been on a plane before. Her son sent her a ticket and said, “Mom, you’ve raised ten kids, it’s time you got on a plane.” She was sitting in the window seat, staring out. She kept talking about the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and pointing. Suddenly I realized she thought we were in Outer Space, looking down at the stars. I said, “You know, I think those lights down there are the lights from little towns."