Lifting Off and Floating Above

by Saxon Henry

19. Lifting off from JFK, mudflats veined with rivulets come into view. The strong breezes nettling my skin in town yesterday seem to persist below, drawing Harring-esque squiggles on the water. Off the coast of Long Island, the cold ocean froths over shoals—a barrier island, its expanse little more than a sliver of sand, draws a delicately curving line marking the wide-open water’s end. Suddenly, it’s nothing but sea.

20. I am floating above the Apennine Mountains on the way to...