Waiting For The Next Flight

After flying out Of Denver on flight 485 on America West I am inside the Phoenix terminal waiting to board my next flight back to Eugene. Travelers with carry on luggage talk on their cell phones and move between other passengers on their way to departure gates. The football game flashes on the overhead screens above the seating area as I wait to board flight 6870. An announcement comes on telling other passengers that their delayed flight to Tucson is soon to arrive. The bright light of the desert sun glares through the heavy plate glass windows. Beyond the airfield hundreds of miles of suburbia sprawl out in every direction from the center of Phoenix all the way to Sun City. When the previous flight I was on began to descend, preparing for its landing into Phoenix I found it hard to distinguish where the center of the city was from the rest of the maze of vacation homes and resorts. Inside the terminal Starbucks, Pizza Hut, McDonalds and Burger King are reminders of the fast food global chain. A liter of bottled water costs $2.49. The label says its from pure mountain springs. Weekend travelers arrive at and depart from desert dreams. Freeway I-10 runs west from LA cutting through the heart of Phoenix then swings southeast down to Tucson and heads east to New Orleans. I-17 runs north up to Flagstaff and connects with I-40 going west to Needles California and east to Gallup New Mexico. Resorts and hotel chains in the Disney like oasis with islands of palm trees and golf courses crowd the desert floor and air-conditioned strip malls span out across the long grid. The football game blasts my ears where I am sitting trying to read a few pages of A Movable Feast. But I soon give up, surrendering to the distractions around me wishing I could time travel back to Paris in the 1920s during the bohemian era of Hemingway and Stein. The barren harsh baked terrain of the Sierra Estrella Range can be seen from the window at gate c-30. A recorded announcement comes on every 5- 10 minutes telling all passengers in the terminal not to leave any luggage unattended or it will be confiscated due to strict security standards enacted since 9-11. After the game is over Fox News comes on in between the 10 minute commercials giving their version of the situation in Iraq where the insurgents are attacking the US troops but our troops are beginning to overtake them they tell us. Meanwhile back in America they say the economy is improving and employment is on the rise. The commercials and the mistruths on the noise box in front of me never stops but in twenty five minutes the plane I have been waiting for will soon lift off above this wasteland of modern white-man’s deadly creations and smog filled skies. I passed through here ten years ago on Amtrak heading to Tucson back when life seemed to move a little slower. But now everything seems to be accelerating at a faster pace. My assigned seat is B-4 next to the window. I prefer a window seat when flying in the daylight. Years ago I had fear of even getting on a plane but now I realize life is dangerous anyway you look at it whether on the ground or in the air. As this suffering planet falls apart and other parts of it are slowly transformed into life giving energy I find the time to catch a few short breaths before the next lift off. It seems quite apparent that the great bird has not risen from its ashes yet.