Hole in the Sky - An Aviator's Personal Account

Mankind, since the dawn of time, has had a fancy for flight - albeit mostly a flight of fancy. Most hapless would-be heroes' historic attempts have been hastily halted by haphazard planning or overzealous confidence. However, a few bright and brainy bicycle brainstormers turned aviation barnstormers seem to have had both strokes of luck and genius - and an idea that literally took off. I, of course, owe homage to these forefathers of flight for every moment I spend with my head in the clouds.

Few feelings are as indescribable as the boundless freedom of flight. The day when their license is freshly inked holds special significance for most, as the culminating moment of countless months of arduous training and hard work. New experiences also hold special significance. The most memorable of mine lies lofted high above the clouds.

It had been a few weeks since my examination, and I was always looking for new scenarios to explore with my newly acquired capability. It was a gloomy early autumn day, with a terribly annoying mist on the tarmac. The airplane's cabin was a refuge from the rain and brisk air. As I taxied down the runway for takeoff, the mist on the windshield condensed into fine streaks. As I drew the nose up and gained altitude, my eye caught a conspicuous cloud formation directly ahead. A nearly perfectly circular break in the cloud deck majestically let intense beams of sunlight pierce through. It was rather breathtaking being the only relief from gray obscurity in the whole expanse of dark sky. I applied full power to the engine and entered a steep climb through the cloud deck. A moment later I cleared the rim of the formation, and inched forward in my seat to peer over the tops of the clouds. Wispy tendrils emanated from the surface and made for a fantastic display.

The deck was fairly low, and I continued climbing, emerging into an alabaster white world. I arrested my ascent at fourteen thousand feet, leveling off and reducing engine power. Now, at nearly ten thousand feet above the deck, I could still peer down through the hole and see the ground below with an interesting parallax effect. It was like flying in a world above another world, with it's own puffy mountains and valleys; an endless expanse that seemed to fade into a hazy white obscurity, an infinite number of miles from the horizon. But I was only a visitor here.

I was the only soul for miles, as a matter of fact. A sharp bank right in a descending downward spiral turn provided an exhilarating panoramic view of the foreign vista. What an amazing view! The acceleration force from the rapid rate of turn pit me in my seat, yet still on an incline relative to the horizon, which only added to the peculiar nature of the landscape. Increasing the bank to near vertical and increasing the rate of turn allowed one last dramatic glimpse of this alien world before starting my decent back to earth.

Through the clouds, being some ten thousand feet lower, the white landscapes gradually faded into foggy, milky white wisps, then giving way to the bleaker mountain greens and city grays. The overcast sky quickly absorbed nearly all of the suns rays, darkening, descending through the gap. Softly touching down on the runway a few moments later brings equivocal emotions and a sense of profound enlightenment, as I have ventured to a world few people know of, and returned to tell of it.