A couple weeks ago a friend and I visited a another friend upstate whose dad is a pilot. He offered to take us up in his vintage Piper - a three-person plane made of cloth stretched over a frame.
(As a former peer would have said, "It's a Sue-sized plane!". Hahaha - short jokes never get old and obviously stay with you forever.)
Sounded a little too arts-and-craftsy to be suitably stable, but what the hell. I agreed and designated myself co-pilot. (That thing is the mic part of the headset - not a weird mustache.)
It actually wasn't scary at all. Once we were up in the air, it didn't really feel any different than being in a big plane. I shared my pictures with my mother who said she loves areal photography and remarked how it always makes everything look so easy. Need to get from point A to point B? Just jump over the forest and across the quarry and over that river! Simple!
Whereas when you're on the ground and sitting level with the forest and the quarry and the river... damn. You'll either end up taking a road that carries you way out of your way in order to get to someplace not that far away, or you wait for a direct path to be built which takes years and can demolish a lot of the pretty things which are part of the scenery.
What does it all mean? Beats me. But I'm thinking maybe I need an airplane for my life. Because if nothing else - it sure is prettier from above.