Distance, perspective, surrender
The planes frame the widest movements of the journey. From the window, cities become patterns, roads become threads, and concerns that felt enormous on the ground become smaller beneath the clouds.
Air travel introduces the emotional experience of leaving one region before fully understanding what occurred there. It also reflects dependence: schedules change, flights cancel, luggage must remain within limits, and the traveler repeatedly entrusts herself to systems she cannot control.
Early in the book, flight represents departure. Later, it represents surrender. At the end, it becomes return.
The plane lifted through a low ceiling of clouds, and Florida disappeared beneath them. For several minutes, the window held only white. Then the aircraft rose into clear blue light, and the cloud cover stretched beneath her like a second landscape. Travel always introduced this strange compression. She had prepared for movement. The movement would require more than preparation. It would require trust.
