Take Off

My first jet from Toronto to Newark turns out to be about the same size as a Greyhound Bus, but not as comfortable.

I got a seat all to myself. By the window too.

It's so early. A minute after takeoff, I could still see the yellow crowns of streetlights as thin out lines of residential cul-de-sacs.

Our slowly lifted thru the clouds. The wing is washed by the sky shower. And I saw the sky above turn a deep-purple: sunrise. The city below disappear just as the purple turns rosé-wine pink.

The sun has risen offering a promise with a gift of a small rainbow peeking slightly from the white clouds.