Sunday, January 10, 2010

"I feel like a million bucks"

We're back home after a week plus in Maui. In many ways, it wasn't nearly long enough, but what we did have of it was great. Sea, sun, sand, warm waves, whales, volcanoes and a sweet, 28 mile bike ride down one, amazing sunsets and midnight rain on the palms outside. Birds that make exotic noises. Flowers as big as my face and in hues that defy belief.

Tomorrow's going to be a rude adjustment, I know, but on the red eye home last night at 36,000 feet, I saw stars, clusters and distant galaxies in the night sky as I never have before with the naked eye. Meteors shot across the scape of sky in my window so delicate and needle-like that it's hard for me to believe they would have been discernible on the ground. [Which, of course, is patently untrue, but things are a little different at 36,000' 2:30 in the morning. Cut an underslept girl some slack.]

It was enthralling.

Then the thinnest crescent of a moon rose above the cloud bank, at times to be obscured by the high, roiling bubbles of cumulonimbus clouds in the distance; backlighting and seeming to illuminate them from inside in such a way that was at once completely logical and utterly captivating. So much so that I didn't even want that part to come to an end.

It made me feel not a little recalcitrant in my attachment to an admittedly hedonistic existence of simply existing, but it also felt almost transcendent as strains of Lemon Jelly's "Space Walk" filled my mind and a relaxed ease still filled my limbs. Celestial wonder giving material form to pure, organic joy. If I had to leave such a beautiful and calming island of warmth and relaxation, what better escorts could I have asked for than this perfect sliver of moon and this sky of vast improbable possibilities as the Maestro snored softly at my shoulder?

"Beautiful...just beautiful."