It began as a thin line of crimson creeping across the sky and slowly became a ROY-G-BIV so vibrant it looked digital. It was ten times the glory of the most spectacular sunrise I've seen from the ground, fading on top to the deep royal blue blanket of outer space, smattered with a pinprick stars. Below, piles of cumulous clouds slowly crept out of the shadows and became the horizon.
It's strange how beauty can make death feel so near and so like an old friend. Looking at that sunset I knew that if the plane went down right then, I wouldn't feel a moment's fear or regret. I would feel, instead, like the plane was tail-spinning away into heaven.
I am convinced that at least a thousand years out of my eternity in heaven will consist of nothing more or less than me floating in outer space in complete silence -- exploring, admiring, and finally understanding.
I almost don't want to post these pictures. They convey nothing of what I saw this morning.