Often in flight, I take a few photographs to capture the airborne moments and the sheer magnificence from above. There is a certain peace, a zen like calm, bewitching, as I gaze between the layers of cloud and view the vanishing, chaotic world below. Quietly and peacefully, we climb through endless puffy clouds, some thick with layers, dark and grey, others white and wispy. Dream like moments, as we fly, suspended between the spaces of earth and heaven.
The highest point of the skyline above me, an inky shade. An artist’s palette of ombre, from darkest to lightest blue, forms the painting I behold. Charles Lutyen’s child like cherubs forming posies while lounging on clouds.
Dare to dream? Could innocent cherubs frolic among these clouds, watching the human race below? Beyond the darkest brush stroke of inky sky, are cherubs guarding Paradise, everlasting?
“For official purposes, these children do not exist.”
― Robert Muchamore
How can one not believe in angelic beings, miracles, or a Power beyond, while suspended within such a glorious space? A glimpse of Limbo and the promise of glories even further upwards.
Until we land. Humanity comes into view. Passengers pushing past others to alight the plane. People scurrying from one gate to another, others attempting to find their way home.
Still, for a few brief hours, I sat, enchanted within a calm and beautiful space, full of wonder.