That day of travel to Buenos Aires was one where I was a witness to more small miracles than perhaps many see in months, or rather, allow themselves to. And while I usually make it a point to look for tidbits of giddy, this whole entire Tuesday to Wednesday in the air and on the ground really took care to show me a good time, from the manner in which the 405 and the 101 did the math perfectly to allow my arrival at the airport, to the kindness and laughter, yes laughter at LAX. And somehow thereafter, it just got better. From conversations, to the movies I saw on the the flight, things just fit. Vague? I know, but I suppose what Im trying to say, is that the world, or the universe, the community at large or at small really was protective of me, and that makes me feel joyful.
This was the first flight where I witnessed a sun set and followed it as it rose, with stars in my path on the way between. I felt momentous, and miraculous, and humbled.
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