It's the first time in all my memory I've flown without clouds. Floor to ceiling, heaven was clear, as though if you only looked hard enough you could see through the sky. We took off from Denver over an hour ago and it is striking how different it is to look out at a never-ending sky without decoration.
When we started from Washington this morning at dawn, I was thrilled to see the pale colours of the sunrise beginning to paint the sky. There we had clouds, of course, feathering out below us, that familiar sight I associate with travel. It's one of my favourite things, rising above storms and rain, to where it is always still, clear and bright.
It always occurs to me that before flight, only God and His birds enjoyed that view, and I feel little bit sorry for all the generations who never got to lay eyes on it.