That feeling you get when the pilot begins to accelerate down the runway. That feeling when the wheels leave the ground for the first time. That feeling when the whole craft banks hard right, and you feel the motion in your stomach.
That’s when you know you’re flying.
And then there’s the landing. You feel the descent, the nose tilt down. You feel the wings slow the plane. You feel the wheels touch the ground. You feel the engines pull hard for the stop, the spoilers dragging against the air.
That’s when you know you were flying.
But then there’s all that in between time, that time when you’re up in the air, and the captain says you can take off your seat belts. Nothing happens. You can only hear the hum of the engines, but you stop feeling the flight.
Unless there’s turbulence. Then the turbulence reminds you. When you bump up a few feet after hitting thick air. When you drop out of the sky for a split second.
The turbulence reminds you that you’re flying.
