Vantage point

At the gate last night, people were getting testy. A blaring alarm was busy alerting security that unauthorized terrorists were invading Concourse A. It sounded like the buzzer at a basketball game except I thought it would never end.

I'd been at gate A9 for twenty minutes and I hadn't seen any sign of danger. With years of data center experience, I diagnosed the problem as a faulty door alarm switch. After an eternity of buzzing, it shut off. Applause from frazzled commuters erupted. It doesn't take much to make them happy when they've been through a late-night airport beat-down.

Thunderstorms to the north delayed flights. That would not have been an issue for us except for the fact that our stewardesses were circling the airport waiting to land instead of preparing our cabin. Again, when they pushed through the crowd at the gate, they were applauded.

These weary passengers boarded in record time. Male passengers helped smaller females heft their bags into overhead bins and people stepped out of the way to remove jackets, instead of holding up the line of boarding passengers.

Once the plane began taxiing to the runway, everyone fell silent. The only sound was the rise and fall of the thrusting engines as it maneuvered the maze of runways to the main strip.

It was closing in on midnight Eastern Time when we finally lifted off for the final leg of my journey home.

We rose through the clouds quickly and left them behind. Soon we were 30,000 feet above West Georgia and East Alabama. The only sound was the rushing whisper of the engines. From that vantage point, the sleepy towns looked as if they were a part of a larger Christmas tree.

Watching the lights slide beneath me made my stress join the vapor trail following the plane.

I snapped a picture to capture the moment.