Mark's Pages

July 19, 2006:

It's just like those dreams you're always having.

This time we fly beneath the bridge before landing.

It's San Diego airport.

Not Pittsburgh.

The descent over Balboa Park, then dropping like a stone across I-5.

At the airport the taxi space runs between buildings.

Downtown.

A 727, obeying traffic lights, following a rush-hour crush of minivans and SUVs.

Hard left at the corner.

You can see the plane's nose swing into the oncoming lane, like a big truck too wide for the turn.

On the tarmac the bags are piled in the canyon between aircraft.