From Detroit to DC on the morning of 12/14

At 30,000 feet one doesn’t expect to see many things that will inspire you aside from the company of strangers. Many people get their life’s work in these situations, and being an aspiring writer I really try to take in this abundance of ideas from outside conversations. However, what really takes my mind away from the thoughts of others is the sun above the clouds, when uncovered it can heat a window to a burning state, even thorough a window shade. And when it rises or sets right in front of your eyes at this height it goes straight to my heart, and there is not much than can top that for inspiration.
At first all you can see is darkness, not even a glimmer of hope on the horizon except endless clouds as your ears continue to pop form the elevation change. A sky of dark blue and gray is all that shows, but softly through an eyelid between the clouds is a faint light to the lucky few that sat on the East side of the plane. It starts with a sliver, this glimmer of hope which grows to be blinding as the sun permeates through the only hole it can find in the darkness of the clouds surrounding the plane, but makes itself known. That bright red grows and stands out like a bleach stain on dark fabric.
Than the hole expands, somehow other slits in the clouds see this and get jealous of its potential beauty. The red stays true, but as the openings expand form this first hole the colors transition to light orange and pink. Slowly the sun still rises to conquer the clouds, and the colors combine to form new shades like a color wheel starting with red. The dark clouds are overthrown now as the colors blend into their white and gray shades.
Still rising, the sun looks to show its face, climbing the horizon to color the sky behind its blood red over the clouds of fuchsia and valencia along the roughly shaped clouds that allow colors to show themselves like this. The blood red background still grows as the sun tries to overpass the sightline of the sky, slowly revealing more shades as it does.
There are a few lofty waves above the clouds that now are revealed as the sun’s rays ignite them, showing how much sky there really is. The blood red is now a dark orange, and the clouds still expand with more shades of lemon and maroon. The bumpy landscape never was so majestic, and all of the crevices and niches are shown in such magnificence that I begin to lose focus on what is going on around me.
At one point there was an annoying baby crying, and a sick man blowing his nose or coughing non-stop, but at this moment in time all sounds are overtaken by the breathtaking view from the plane’s windows. Passengers on the West side of the plane are stretching their necks and standing in the aisle trying to sneak a peek at what usurped the sky, while the other side of the plane just stares in awe with mouths agape.
Just past the original red hole that started it all a slip of something blinding appears between the clouds and the flaming orange background. Anyone who has seen a similar sight knows that at this precise moment the sun begins its ascent on this side of the landscape. The glimmer of it grows, and a circle is beginning to take shape around the shades that keep expanding their stretch. It’s like a rainbow of reds and yellows now that will never end their sightline, and all one can do is squint so as to still view the masterpiece without going blind. That’s the paradox to this setting, it’s so amazing and unbelievable that when it peaks you can’t stare right at it.
Just as the circle is taking its nearly full form I hold my breath to save the moment, forgetting something like this is impossible, but remembering it is questionable, so I gaze closer to the window wiping sweat from my brow. My eyes begin to tear out of pain from the light, and my face is so hot I can feel my skin getting a shade darker.
I want to see it happen so that I know how and when it will end, but at that moment the plane turns right into the light and my story ends.