The flight to Calgary while short and partially interrupted by my quick nap (lol) was breathtaking.
Tiny plane, window seat, very back row. We soar over the water with sunshine sparkling on the sea water below, with what looked like toy boats playing to some distant song that I could not hear. White streaks giving evidence to how fast each was going. Are they in chase, organized or in random patterns? And the sails up on cousin boats, catching the movement of the ocean air with effortless movement through the rocky shores. Still close enough to see sea birds frolicking.
I watched with curiosity as the terrain below came alive with change. Mountains, windy rivers meandering through and distinguishing sides. Small mountain lakes bleeding, with streams down down and sometimes disappearing from view.
Grey, gold, red, browns and black hard edges carved from what once was the flat earth below. Looking to be new and freshly cut from a flat surface that must have once covered the area. Visually I can imagine the large flows of slow moving ice that would have covered the surface and made round some of the ground.
Beautiful and awe inspiring.
And then as if wrapped carefully for gift giving, the carved prairies. How did they create such uniform and straight lines of division? Who was in charge of this visual creation of perfection from the sky. And who lives in those beautiful farm houses there now standing? I can see the fall harvest has taken place and carefully manicured fields of various colours greet my sights.
And arrival, in to Calgary.