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Feb. 10th, 2005 07:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeanvieveThere's a calmness to this beginning that has never been there before. A comfort affair rather than a completely new romance, but still more than welcome. I do not know what all I will say to these new faces, but I have a quieter confidence now that I will find the right words.
Our plane is brand new, a maiden voyage for seasoned travellers. With hearphones on, I can't even hear the child two rows up. Feeling quite clever, I also packed earplugs and sleeping pills. Here's hoping to minimize the jet lag that too much excitement created last time.
******************
The sun crests over quite a wide stretch of horizon at 37,000 feet. Breakfast is done, and on the way back from the bathroom I discovered by way of an odd little pop and squish in my shark socks that the little girl behind me doesn't care for grapes on her plate. Still, the tea keeps coming and my teeth are clean again. The dignity of my socks may be offended, but my sense of humor is firmly intact.
There's a nice relaxation channel on the armrest, but its constant exhortations to visualize flowers, birds, bodies of water wears thin. I did my stretches on the stair leading down to the bathrooms, visualizing far more naughty things than trees. Yes, my first ever plane with a staircase and bathrooms near palatial in comparison with the facilities at Deena's. Big enough for a llama, John, even a frisky one.
Currently we're over England - Kingston upon Hull to be exact. I never read anything about the river(?) Hull in books, but it either has escaped me in significance or there are a frightful number of Kingstons owned or settled or renamed by the Brits. Rather like Alexandrias, I imagine.
If I were a conquerer, what should I name after myself? Would the title or the name be more important? I think I am Alexandrian enough to choose the name, but it bears close consideration as to what would bear the appellate. In an age where most every place or item is branded, it would clearly need to be an ousting or coup. Calling Jeannieland a way of living sounds too theme parkish, though perhaps more appropriate than a town or pair of sneakers. Yet charmingly abstract for all of that.
***************
Its also the first time of really seeing Denmark from the air, and it seems to be ever so very settled. Even the patches of trees and forest are neatly trimmed and bordered like a... well, what comes to mind is female bush. But I stared and grinned at the sight of an entire wind farm, some hundred and fifty windmill generators stuck in the water off the coast of Jutland. Its a windy day, with thin and wispy clouds and many tiny white breakers on the water. Counting boats was fun until the late afternoon sun painted the clouds gold on our descent into Copenhagen. Still, there are many fishing boats and tankers down below, and rich green and dark mottling just under the water. Fish must love it here.
We pass the longest over water bridge between Islands I've ever been on, and it makes me wonder how deep the water really is. The sun on the rippling waves is dazzling beautiful. Sea foam forms, crests, breaks and fades in the wind, and I must go down to the sea again. Ah, land ho. Pity. Sort of land anyway. Southwest of the city appears to be major salt marshes. Oh. Its another island. Silly me. A lonely gull wings by beneath.
Our plane is brand new, a maiden voyage for seasoned travellers. With hearphones on, I can't even hear the child two rows up. Feeling quite clever, I also packed earplugs and sleeping pills. Here's hoping to minimize the jet lag that too much excitement created last time.
******************
The sun crests over quite a wide stretch of horizon at 37,000 feet. Breakfast is done, and on the way back from the bathroom I discovered by way of an odd little pop and squish in my shark socks that the little girl behind me doesn't care for grapes on her plate. Still, the tea keeps coming and my teeth are clean again. The dignity of my socks may be offended, but my sense of humor is firmly intact.
There's a nice relaxation channel on the armrest, but its constant exhortations to visualize flowers, birds, bodies of water wears thin. I did my stretches on the stair leading down to the bathrooms, visualizing far more naughty things than trees. Yes, my first ever plane with a staircase and bathrooms near palatial in comparison with the facilities at Deena's. Big enough for a llama, John, even a frisky one.
Currently we're over England - Kingston upon Hull to be exact. I never read anything about the river(?) Hull in books, but it either has escaped me in significance or there are a frightful number of Kingstons owned or settled or renamed by the Brits. Rather like Alexandrias, I imagine.
If I were a conquerer, what should I name after myself? Would the title or the name be more important? I think I am Alexandrian enough to choose the name, but it bears close consideration as to what would bear the appellate. In an age where most every place or item is branded, it would clearly need to be an ousting or coup. Calling Jeannieland a way of living sounds too theme parkish, though perhaps more appropriate than a town or pair of sneakers. Yet charmingly abstract for all of that.
***************
Its also the first time of really seeing Denmark from the air, and it seems to be ever so very settled. Even the patches of trees and forest are neatly trimmed and bordered like a... well, what comes to mind is female bush. But I stared and grinned at the sight of an entire wind farm, some hundred and fifty windmill generators stuck in the water off the coast of Jutland. Its a windy day, with thin and wispy clouds and many tiny white breakers on the water. Counting boats was fun until the late afternoon sun painted the clouds gold on our descent into Copenhagen. Still, there are many fishing boats and tankers down below, and rich green and dark mottling just under the water. Fish must love it here.
We pass the longest over water bridge between Islands I've ever been on, and it makes me wonder how deep the water really is. The sun on the rippling waves is dazzling beautiful. Sea foam forms, crests, breaks and fades in the wind, and I must go down to the sea again. Ah, land ho. Pity. Sort of land anyway. Southwest of the city appears to be major salt marshes. Oh. Its another island. Silly me. A lonely gull wings by beneath.
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Use a different language!
Date: 2005-02-10 10:42 am (UTC)