Written in the Sky

The other morning, before I sailed, when I went and got myself boosted at dark-and-early o’clock, the morning was clear and still and calm when I came out.

So still and calm, in fact, that the remainder of the sunrise was a basic affair, without much color to it. The sky had been dark, now it was light. Few clouds to paint in dramatic colors, mostly just a low strip of light pink haze at the horizon.

There were, however, exhaust trails from planes taking off and landing at the airport.

Which way to the airport? Well, I could give directions broadly or you can GPS it for detail but, as the crow flies, the directions were written in the skies.

All lines point in one direction