The views from here

Lakes, at this height, are laid out on the land as wild and haphazard as droplets of mercury. I see the sun as the sun sees us, brightly replicated in innumerable mirrors. This morning the air we thrum through is smooth, but often, and invisibly, our passage hits updrafts that kick me into awareness of how measly small these vehicles are. I have learned, as well, to expect the slap of clouds, the urge to hold my breath and armrest as a plane dips into the woolly medium of an overcast day, or bombards through the battlements of cumulous afternoons. Here, in these ambient cocoons, (mostly) men sit in (mostly) wordless company, working or dozing. Lawyers flip naked fingers through indices of the day’s business, each sheaf encasing a story of evidence, evidence of many stories. Proof, our currency, rests in abeyance for a time, like this plane that trajects the open space between defined places.

I usually like the law quite well in this setting. Controlled environs, earplugs and peanuts, folders full of interesting material, plum for highlighting and scrawling queries or deductions in the margins; yellow notepad held close to sketch out clever arguments. My mind, in these times, takes the shape of a polished courtroom, assigning strengths and challenges to each of two opposing sides, squinting at my case the way I think a judge would. It’s at least as fun as Sudoku.

Paper-thin rules don’t apply so predictably after landing, however.