“There was a beautiful sunrise this morning in Ireland—except the majority of Ireland’s inhabitants missed it.
It was a dank, grey morning, but at 35,000 feet, all was different. A fiery glow gently whispered over the downy cotton-tops of sleeping clouds. Fields and fields of clouds bathed in morning light, things of beauty—infinite in variety and formation—changing for every planeload of spectators.
Beauty—only recently seen by us; always been there, of course, but only in the last 100 years have we been able to enjoy it.”