some notes I took on the plane.
flying over your city is some kind of magic. atlanta will always be my city. it's my home, it's where I grew up. seeing it from above makes me proud. it's so small. I look at the buildings and think, I was there not too long ago, and now I'm here, hundreds of feet above it. it's weird. now matter how much I fly in my life, I don't think I'll ever get used to it. at least I hope not. it's the coolest thing ever. I don't know how the people next to me are sleeping right now. how.
I'm next to the window, and I keep looking out over the cities and trees and the tiny buildings we're flying over and the clouds we're going through and I wish my grandfather would sit down because it's slightly turbulent at the moment and he's going to fall...
okay, he's seated. and I look at the sky and the different shades of blue and I love how it gets darker as I look up. it's so beautiful...I look up as high as I can, at the darkest blue I can see, and I try to imagine what's out there. I know that just beyond the blue, it's black. and starry. and probably way more beautiful than this. God is amazing. he's such an imaginative artist.