I love flying, even though I rarely do so -- I'm not one for travel. But when I get the chance to fly I find it hard to not just sit there, staring out of the window, marvelling at the view.
Today I got the chance to get a pretty good view of the area close to where I used to live when I first started this blog (and also where I lived when I maintained the blog that came before).
The route I flew actually covered a couple of places from my past life, going fairly close to York (where I was born and spent the first 18 years of my life), then carrying on down into Lincolnshire (where I used to live before moving to Scotland).
Much of the route was over broken cloud that made it tricky to really see obvious landmarks, although around Lincolnshire (without knowing I was over it at the time) I did see some shapes in the landscape that looked familiar. Then, after a small turn, and after a wee while, the cloud cleared and suddenly it was very obvious where I was. I had this excellent view of the Wash.
I know this sort of thing is conventional, everyday, and boring for many folk. Me: nope, not a chance. That I can have this sort of view is still a wonder to me.