movement
Despite the modern inconveniences, I still love airports. I do remember when you used to be able to see someone off to the gate or greet them the moment they stepped off the plane. I remember looking forward to the small, aluminum wrapped trays of odd, warm flavors and textures that can only be achieved by preservatives and over processing. I remember when there were smoking sections.
I know people who routinely travel for work and are jaded by the process, but I still love the ritual of it. There’s still an excitement for me. For whatever reason you’re flying, you’re still going somewhere. You’re still leaving something behind or returning to where you came. You’ll be in a completely different place than where you are right now, set to do whatever it is that you’re going there to do. And you made that decision, or were compelled for whatever reason to go.
