It was actually a fine day, a simple plan. Fly back home. Yes Sydney is far across the ocean, far down under the globe., but really less than 20 hours flight from Dallas. Just have to make it to Dallas OK. This was the mantra from the night before. Who would know what would happen in Reagan to delay the flight – and miss the connection.
As it was, the DC flight was on time and departed smoothly. Not much to eat on the flight – but hey, only a few hours to Dallas. How many was it again – coudn’t remember, didn’t really care, an extra hour of time zone should help anyway, since the Sydney flight was late, late into the evening.
Not long before landing, the weather changed and apparently a storm cell had moved over Dallas. Things must’ve got a bit chaotic at the destination airport, since the airline elected to shift the landing to Austin and wait out the storm front on the ground.
So there we sat, on the tarmac, a totally packed plane – hour after hour. About every 30 minutes or so, we were reassured that it would be soon we would take off and most assuredly i would make my connection. Occasionally we were given permission to end our flight in Austin if we thought would be better. Most people needed to connect in DFW, so we all pretty much sat there.
Not much talk, no one really spoke, didn’t make new friends, at least not in our row. Thinking back that short delay dragged on for over 6 hours and as it happened, 6 hours sitting on a seat next to 2 other people, in hindsight, interesting. I guess we keep thinking it will be over soon and we will be off this plane in less than an hour.
No sleep either, no entertainment, no wifi. What a great time I had though in Boston, and it was so nice to see my son in DC and then the wilds of West Virginia for a few days, the haunting town of Wheeling and the criss and cross of the ohio river. At Cape Ann I saw the Brahms Piano Concerto. Such focus from the pianist to get every chord and run, with the orchestra enjoying the ride. Sweet sounds of the flute and clarinet and a bit of boof from the timpani. At Plymouth I saw the Mayflower, at least a replica, and enjoyed some great lobster with work colleagues. So nice to re-establish friendships from the past and even recent past. Will I ever be back., always the wonder when living down under. Time flies when reflecting on the good things. Did anyone notice me smiling, laughing to myself about the joys of travel, even if waiting on the tarmac is part of it. Wherever we look or reflect we see things overlap with our experience, enhance it, create it, embellish it and shape it.
Still no one spoke much and no one complained. The flight attendants were fine and the passengers were not stressed. It was like a magic boomerang. A storm came., we diverted, a magic boomerang was thrown, we sat there waiting for it to come back and us take off and end the whole diversion, as though it didn’t happen really.
In the end the hours of waiting round in Dallas didn’t eventuate – and most of them were spent waiting in a kind of plane limbo out at Austin – perfect skies – perfect weather, not even a hint of what might have been happening in Dallas just north of there.
Having run to the gate in Dallas to make the connection, no time to eat, no time to shop, no time to think. I made the flight. Sat in my seat and thought – ok – well only another 17 hours and I’ll be back home. All’s well that ends well.
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