I Like Planes

I hate being inside them, though. I don't like feeling crammed and smelling the stale air of an airplane. I also really dislike how the engine is so loud that I have to blast my music just to hear the lyrics of the song. My enjoyment of planes comes from watching them. I absolutely loved growing up in Atlanta and being able to see all the airplanes constantly flying overhead as they either depart or land at Hartsfield-Jackson. When I moved to Florida, that joy was unfortunately lost. I traded the plane filled sky for a light-pollution-free sky full of the brightest stars you will ever see. Honestly, not a bad trade. But, visiting my aunt's house in New Jersey has reminded just how much I love to look up. Her house is situated between EWR and a private runaway that seems to only allow small planes to use it. Quite literally every minute of the day you can watch planes take a huge turn, almost looking like they're going to flip sideways, as they begin their preparation for landing. They are so close that you can read the United logo on the side, or notice the glimmer of the sunlight against each little window that probably blinds every passenger aboard. I enjoy thinking about where these people are coming from, how packed the plane was, if it was bumpy on the way down, or if there was a crying baby disrupting rows 19-25. As an ex-centerfielder, I remember coaches scolding the entire team, imploring us to pay attention and "Stop playing with the dandelions or watching the planes fly by." Well, I haven't been able to find many dandelions up here in Jersey, but I am definitely getting caught up in watching the planes fly by.