




I left Los Angeles on Saturday morning. I was able to get a nice photo of the iconic central structure at LAX. Waiting at the gate, I spoke with a family heading back to Switzerland. They didn't know what was going to happen after they got to Chicago. There were no flights to Lucerne, because of the volcanic ash. I hope they got to stay over and see a bit of Lake Michigan. The plane took off headed west over the Pacific Ocean coastline and steeply banking, headed east for Chicago, where I'd be connecting to another flight. The pix are out of sequence but you get the idea. I looked down at the city, said so-long until next time, feeling lucky to have a window seat. I looked down on the desert and then on high mountains with snow on top, then flat lands, then the wide Mississippi River and into Illinois, where the fields are so straight, where I was so surprised to see the interesting curving rows of plantings. It was like looking at a fabulous intaglio print or a drawing. At O'Hare airport, I saw a Brioche Doree "cafe," a bit of Paris in the heartland. I had an aisle seat on the next flight, and it got dark quickly as we headed east, so no sights to see as we crossed the Appalachian mountains. No kidding, I was thinking: This is a HUGE country! I arrived at my home airport, my honey was waiting for me, and, even though it was 10 at night for him, it was dinner time for me so we went out to eat. I'm home! A bit of jet lag to contend with, but so it goes.