flight

Stayed up far too late on my flight to Zurich and was rewarded with the breathtaking silence of a vista of stars and the Milky Way arching beyond my little airplane window. I could only imagine what a wonder the pilots must have seen from the cockpit, skimming over a dark Atlantic free of artifical light.

The Frick Collection was tiny but each piece was a gem set in the magnificence of a sumptuous mansion on Central Park. My eye is becoming more developed. Even as I hurried through each room, my gaze lingered on paintings that I then realized were by the likes of Vermeer and Turner although many other artists are exhibited. Subway delays ensured, as usual, that I barely made my flight on time. My text message from the gate at JFK reached Todd while he was on his plane back to Denver. When the flight attendent questioned me in German, I instinctively answered, "Nee... nein." But as I read German magazines and listened to the announcements, I began to get a hold of the language again. So it's still there.

Zurich has the sleekest, most modern and yet comfortable airport I've ever seen. I'm dying, just dying, to actually visit the city and see some of Switzerland. August, anyone?