dear land of lakes diary,
whenever i fly to california and i have a layover and its at st. paul minnesota, i love love LOVE the descent because it is the most spectacular sight. i like it more than arizona at sky harbor or leaving LAX when you fly out over the water and turn around to come east. there are 11,842 lakes in minnesota and flying in- i think you can see at least half of them. not only that- it's the way the ground is parted by fields. there are so many beautiful variations of earth when you are so far up in the sky, bordered by tiny roads, at times, with a patch of trees, and a puddle perfectly placed- every so often- on a beautiful canvas of patchwork of quilted patterns of grass and farmers fields. beautiful earth. so breathtaking. as you get closer to the ground and your eyes catch the finer details- you begin to catch little glimpses of the lives below. the farm houses, the barns- even a clothesline with a sheet- blowing and blowing. i remember being a child looking up at the big planes wondering if anyone in the plane was looking down and could see me. then- much older, while i was in the plane looking down, i wondered if anyone saw me in the big plane while they were looking up. but i never saw anyone.
whenever i fly to california and i have a layover and its at st. paul minnesota, i love love LOVE the descent because it is the most spectacular sight. i like it more than arizona at sky harbor or leaving LAX when you fly out over the water and turn around to come east. there are 11,842 lakes in minnesota and flying in- i think you can see at least half of them. not only that- it's the way the ground is parted by fields. there are so many beautiful variations of earth when you are so far up in the sky, bordered by tiny roads, at times, with a patch of trees, and a puddle perfectly placed- every so often- on a beautiful canvas of patchwork of quilted patterns of grass and farmers fields. beautiful earth. so breathtaking. as you get closer to the ground and your eyes catch the finer details- you begin to catch little glimpses of the lives below. the farm houses, the barns- even a clothesline with a sheet- blowing and blowing. i remember being a child looking up at the big planes wondering if anyone in the plane was looking down and could see me. then- much older, while i was in the plane looking down, i wondered if anyone saw me in the big plane while they were looking up. but i never saw anyone.