Most gulls don't bother to learn more than the simplest facts of flight—how to get from shore to food and back again. For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating. -Richard Bach
With shore being home, and food being adventure, I feel very much like a gull most days. And while the adventure of getting to a new place is always interesting (and I do love staring out of plane windows and watching the landscape below me change), the anticipation of what's to come--the smells and the sights and the sounds--always trumps any true appreciation for the flying. The time spent exploring and getting lost and dreaming and soaking in as much of a different sun as I can and meeting people for whom this is shore and not food--all of this is fuel for my soul. And, more like a bear preparing for hibernation than a gull simply on a quest for food, I take in and stock up on as much as I can, knowing that there will be a period of hibernation before the next adventure to food.
But right now I'm dreaming of tube next flight that takes me to food. Dreaming of feeling like a rebel when I don't turn my phone off so I can capture the take off, dreaming of staring out the window and watching the landscape change below me. Dreaming of seeing the sunset (or rise) from thousands of miles above the clouds, dreaming of the magical land the flight will take me to.