notes from planes.

slowly slipping down towards a marshmallow carpet broken through while leaving philly, the pilot informs us that we are descending into chicago. our re-entry into the lower echelons of of the atmosphere found the second city awash in a pink mango sunset, the bottom of the cloud layer a cotton-candy froth that didn't quite dissipate as we drew closer and closer to the ground.

the tarmac rose to greet us and a great red midwestern sun sat fat and spent over the roofs and hangers and parking decks. i am shocked at how easily midway airport shrugs its preternaturally ghastly appearance for these few fleeting moments of pre-dusk. shocked, and quite pleased that i'm here to see it swan.

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"reality does not usually coincide with our anticipation of it ... to forsee a circumstantial detail is to prevent its happening"

-- jose luis borges

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the drama of the innumerable thousands passes below me, from this altitude each unique story identified only by its own identical yellow street light. at night, from the sky, there is no class, race, gender. there is only the jaundiced glow of sodium and tiny traffic lights switching from green to red as the people pass. from up here, finally equals.