A new perspective was born from the bleeding skies above and the busy streets below


Sofia Hargis-Acevedo

The captivating view from my oval-shaped window.

I’ve never been 33,000 feet in the air surrounded by a dome of deep, navy blue bleeding into soft hues of fuschia and blood orange.

I’ve never looked down to see thousands of buildings sitting so cozily next to one another. I’ve never seen every single house, office, and shop light on in unison, as if the town awakens when the sun lays to rest.

I’ve never gotten to soak up every moment of a sunset while my favorite songs are creating a soft interlude in the distance.

It truly is a euphoric feeling. I felt on top of the world—both literally and figuratively. The weight that planted my heavy feet on the ground had lifted, and I did not worry about when I was going to feel it once more.

There is an entire universe beyond Earth and our lives are precisely one miniscule piece to the colossal puzzle, yet we believe that our lives are the epicenter of our universe.”

I didn’t worry about anything, for that matter. My focus was nowhere besides the oval-shaped window that I rested my head on. I could not physically draw my eyes away from the streetlights, roads, and cars. Perhaps it was because I was exhausted, but I believe I was simply encapsulated by the beauty below me from a birds-eye view.

We flew right alongside the shore line; the beach was simply a mere string of pale beige. There were some houses along the sand, but the buildings became more concentrated as I looked further inland. I could see the long highways and the four-leaf-clover exits. There were semi-trucks and SUVs and convertibles and pick-up trucks; traffic was quite heavy, it was around rush hour.

They all had someplace to go, something to do. As did I, of course, yet the ability to see everyone traveling provided me with a new perspective, a new point of view. 

We are all so small. There is an entire universe beyond Earth and our lives are precisely one minuscule piece to the colossal puzzle, yet we believe that our lives are the epicenter of our universe.

Whenever I am in the car, I always look up to the sky when I hear the roar of an airplane either taking off or landing. I wonder where they are going, what they are going to do. I wonder what adventure awaits them in the near future. Looking down at all the cars on the busy highway, I wondered if they were thinking the same thing. 

Some may take the time to wonder; they may fantasize about the chaotic adventure that awaits us. They may wish us luck, or they may bid us farewell. However, there are some who cannot take time out of their lives to look at the bigger picture. They are caught up in their lives that appear much larger than they actually are. 

If only they could see the dome of navy blue bleed into the soft hues of fuschia and blood orange from 33,000 feet in the air. If only they could look down into the city and see the busy streets and glowing buildings. 

But alas, the plane landed. As soon as my eyes were no longer plastered on the oval-shaped window and my head no longer rested beside it, I was once again caught up in my chaotic life that felt larger than life itself.