back in the deep....

...freeze of the deep south. Thankful for a safe trip and return to the routine chaos of Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport shortly after midnight. Various and sundry delays that resulted in us arriving on the downside of the analog timepiece to bring us into Atlanta on Thursday instead of Wed., but all in one piece. Odd, unlikely events as in: arriving at the mid point in Charlotte where the pilot reported he had 'good news and bad news.' Explaining we had arrived a bit early from the point of origin in Richmond, but we had no place to park, no crew to provide exit of the aircraft.

It all worked out, though we had to leave the comfort of our warm cocoon to freezing out door temperatures. Clamber down creaky steps onto the tarmac and shuffle across the apron gritty with coarse salt, to the open door of the terminal. It's been so long since I saw actual steps on wheels, outside of old black and white movies, I had to laugh as we tottered down to return to earth, hanging onto the insufficient wobbly handrail in the dark. Charlotte terminal has concourses that are similar to what we have come to expect, but this particular one was obviously older, at ground level, up a short ramp or three steps into the building. Reminiscent of airports of fifty years ago, when you could walk your departing friends out to the open door of the plane and wave goodbye, when you saw their smiling faces through the porthole as they settled into their assigned seat.

If that stopover had not been on the itinerary the usual flight time from RIC to ATL is about ninety minutes. This one, requiring a stroll from on end of the terminal to the other, plus a generous wait time, took over four hours. Hundreds milling about or hovering over electronic devices, crying children, antsy adolescents, yapping dogs in mesh carriers, groups of young soldiers in camo., hundreds of travelers with cancelled or delayed flights, made this stop-over airport seem much like Atlanta.

Having never been in that airport, it was remarkably similar to others everywhere I have traveled in my limited experience. But also different: I recall reading someplace that there are rocking chairs for travelers to stop and sit, rest and slow their harried pace. A long row of white wooden rocking chairs that makes you think about the front porch of Cracker Barrel restaurants. With the addition of a number of 'shade trees' that really do give a sense of a slower time and place, visit to grandmas, where you could sit with a cool glass of lemonade and slow your mind.