Thousands of feet below the Southwest Airlines 737, there’s an endless blanket of billowing cloud tops. And there’s a thin sliver of pink in the eastern sky. The sun is rising. Day is coming soon.
To the west, the full moon is setting, just now coming out of eclipse. I dash from one side of the airplane to the other, first looking at the rising sun, then looking at the setting moon.
What remarkable timing. What a remarkable view. And how remarkable is it that the flight attendants haven’t told me to sit down?