There is something intriguing about airplanes. They are simultaneously bigger and smaller than you think. Tons of smooth painted metal, curved lines and cylindrical jet engines that leap into the sky as if eager to flit among the birds. We have succeeded in building, with science, a machine that can launch itself aloft, not so much ignoring gravity as defeating it.

What we sometimes forget when airplanes fly overhead, leaving their white dispersive tracks across the sky, is that they contain people. People that may be looking down at us, watching the tiny landscape pass beneath, the toy cars and trucks negotiating their paths with the highways and roads, the neat squares of buildings and odd shapes of backyard swimming pools passing in stillness beneath them, completely forgetting that all of that represents people as well. Maybe we’re doomed to forget each other. People unseen are objects, passing through space.


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