Not having flown into Charlotte for a layover, I wasn't watching closely enough. One minute we were over the Atlantic, the next, we were over land, a land rich in rivers and farms, green with Spring.
|Get a little lower now|
|Where there weren't farms there were these suburbs |
that looked idyllically storybook like.
I bet no one has ever yelled or kicked a dog here. Ever.
|Downtown Charlotte, North Carolina|
|Good-bye Charlotte! You look lovely, I'll be back by land.|
There by the curbside was a better sight than clouds, my granddaughter and grandson, waiting to whisk me away. My granddaughter. Picked. Me. Up. At. The. Airport.
And soon you'll hear the rest of the story.
Have a wickedly wonderful Wednesday. Do something wrapped in windswept wonder.
p.s. US Airways, please clean your windows!