Flying High

I just found out my DH has a fear of flying, especially in small commuter crafts. My first memory of flying is when I was 8-years old, and my family visited Colorado, Washington state and then up to British Columbia Canada in June. I remember the flight attendants (known as stewardess' back then) in their pink and metallic silver uniforms with go-go boots, their perfectly coordinated movements in flight and thinking "what an interesting job!" And when I first stepped off the Boeing-747 at the Denver airport, it was cold! No one but me seemed to notice.

Even after all these years (not going there, so don't ask), those little visual details are still with me. For me, details are what flesh-out a picture, or in a writer's case, a scene. It's those nuances that play in the mind to create an expectation. Like excitement, joy, and fear of could happen next.

I'm in for a long week of (hopefully) productive writing before my DH returns from his business trip. And maybe I can get him to relate the details of his journey for my future reference so I can visualize what it's like in a small commuter plane.

~Ann JR