It’s ages since I have travelled far to the west. This morning, we left Finland at 2.30 am and watched an orangey winter dawn just about to break when taking off from Helsinki for the first leg of today’s long journey.
Many hours later, the very same Sunday dawned on board a transatlantic plane somewhere over Greenland. Strange feeling. As if travelling back in time. At first faint, glittery – orangey again – streaks underneath. Then the bright light chasing away eerie clouds of mist -some hardly noticeable, thin whips, others slowly undulating blankets. The morning making the ghost of the night disappear. And then, suddenly I was blinded by the brightest sun in the horizon behind the wing of the plane. Good morning again, Sunday!
My daughter has climbed several high mountains in different parts of the world, camped on top to be ready to greet the first rays of the morning sun. I have loved seeing her wonderful photos of these special moment, but never actually experienced it myself. This morning I was lucky to have a vantage point high above the clouds, to stop and stare at the wonders of this magnificent universe that we inhabit.