Touching Down

There's a moment when you're suspended in the air. I've felt it a few times, and it's one of those rare instances where time stands still. You're sitting in a plane seat, either looking out the window or staring straight ahead, depending on your personal flying preferences. The plane's wheels are out, inches from the ground. This is the moment that makes the whole flight worth it.

You're sitting in a giant metal death-trap that humans invented to thrust into the sky and fly around. "We, as human beings, were created to stay firmly put on the ground," my grandfather would argue. The thing is, we weren't. We were created to explore, to fly and swim and jump and live. So we started small, working and building our way up into the massive planes that now jet around the country, around the world.

The way it feels, hovering just inches above the ground... It can't be matched by anything else. Gravity seems to have stopped in the moment, but that doesn't mean you won't wind up safe. No, if anything, you're more likely to come out looking like you just rolled through a car crusher. Your lungs fill up with air, your body can practically feel the entire plane's movements, and then the wheels touch down.

Sometimes, there's a bounce. Sometimes, it's a little rocky. Heck, sometimes it's smooth and you thank your lucky stars you got a pilot who's done this a million times. Regardless of how the aftermath feels, you're back in the safe zone. The plane returns to the terminal, you get off and return to the hustle and bustle of the world, that moment completely forgotten.

Unless you're like me, because then you spend your whole life searching for another one.