flying in the dark

I like window seats.

Granted, I don’t often get to sit in one because we are most likely to be travelling as a group of three on a long flight, which usually puts us in the center of the plane and far from the windows.

This morning, though, I got to sit in the window seat of a small jet, flying from our home airport to Detroit, from which we will continue after a ten-ish hour layover to London to visit daughter E, son-in-law L, and granddaughters ABC and JG.

Even though it was dark out, I enjoyed looking out the window. Town and city lights. Occasional wisps of clouds. A few stars visible above the wing.

As we flew west, it seemed we were trying to outrun dawn. We nearly succeeded, orange and pink blossoming on the eastern horizon as we made our descent.

The stars had disappeared but Venus shown brightly.

Paris

My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Paris in the aftermath of such horrific violence against them.

If I were at home, I would be watching what I am sure must be 24-hour television coverage, knowing that early reports are often unclear and certainly incomplete, but unable to concentrate on other matters in the face of such heart-breaking suffering.

Here at our poetry residency/workshop, we are meant to be unplugged, but I have used our internet access to read a bit of the coverage online and have decided to write this very early morning post before turning my mind back to poetry as best I can.

For months, those of us in the environmental movement have been using the word Paris as shorthand for the critical international climate summit due to convene there on November 30th. Many world leaders, including President Obama and Prime Minister Trudeau, are due to attend.  I have no idea if it was part of the intent of the terrorists to disrupt what is the last, best hope for international accord to protect the earth, but to attack Paris only two weeks before the talks feels like an attack not only against Paris, not only against France, not only against Europe, not only against world governments, but also against the planet itself.

We are all Paris. All bloodied. All in shock. All in mourning. But also united in strength. United in resolve. United in solidarity.

We must be.

The future of humanity and the planet depend on it.