I recalled my first flight as a teenager leaving one country for another to continue my education. The excitement of foreign adventures was mixed with the sadness of leaving my family. As the plane took off and the northern coast of South America dropped below the horizon, I remember brushing a small tear off my cheek, yet smiling at the glorious possibilities of exploring a new, fascinating and sometimes frightening world. It would be years before I would see my family again. I don’t sleep much on airplanes and I read very little when up in the air. High above the clouds enveloped in this meditative environment, I much prefer to reflect on the nature of reality, to philosophize and luxuriate alone in my thoughts. Today was no different as I reflected on the past week. Indeed it was a grueling one. My body’s bio-clock was indecisively choosing among time zones across three continents, but my mind, at ease on an uncrowded flight, was drifting among the clouds of yesterday and tomorrow. Yawning, I glanced through the window again. If you leave London in the late afternoon flying west ward toward New York, you would experience a prolonged twilight period. It’s as if you were racing after the sun, never quite catching up as it drops into its nest in the west, leaving you to sleep or gaze hypnotically in its spell. Another yawn as I glanced again at the clouds. There weren’t many of them, but they appeared to come to life changing shapes and evolving into new, intriguing forms, ever so slowly, ever so peacefully as we sailed overhead.Here was one that resembled a giraffe,long neck, spots and all stood out against the pale blue sky. And over there, another cloud took the shape of an acacia tree,complimenting the giraffe on the African landscape. Lower and somewhat farther to my right was one shaped like a car — a Volkswagen beetle no less.