Travel days are exhausting

Travel days are always exhausting. Today was particularly exhausting as we had to be up at 3 am to catch our 6 am flight to JFK in order to make the 8.20 am connection to Bermuda.
A shock to the system after such an enchanting and relaxing vacation. Nothing like being thrust back to reality. Getting up in the middle of the night is no fun.
Because I was so nervous about missing the flight I woke up every half hour then was wide awake at 2.30am. There was no way I wanted to miss the flight particularly since the whole of the Northeast corridor is under threat for their first Nor’easter of the year. I did not want to get stuck in New York knowing that everyone would be trying to get back to Bermuda for school on Monday.
Coming into JFK was like flying blind. The visibility was so poor that I didn’t see the ground until we were literally on top of it. The sky was dark and ominous waiting to take over the city. Mist was everywhere. We landed safely in NY and I breathed a sigh of relief, almost home, fingers crossed we would be able to get out before the weather deteriorated any further.
We got off the flight only to get back on the same airplane to come home. This time surrounded by many people we knew. Being in JFK was almost like being at home with the number of Bermudians there. It was sort of a comfort to know there was so many of on the airplane.
The flight taxied down the runway but we ended up sitting for about an hour, visibility slightly improved but the sky was still very heavy with dark and threatening clouds. I said a silent prayer for us to arrive home safely. After watching airplanes landing all around us, some closer than my husband would have liked, we were finally cleared for takeoff.
Breaking through the clouds was trying as they were so heavy that it seemed almost as if they did not want to be penetrated. Their density and greyness pushing back against us, rocking the plane for a while. The mystery and strength of the storm sweeping into the city enveloping us like we were a toy airplane. Front and back looked exactly the same - totally and utterly grey. Then like magic we reached our desired altitude and all above us was blue sky, clear and beautiful, beneath us puffy white clouds.
Where had the ominous skies gone? There was obviously still there but now they were beneath us, obscured by the puffy white clouds. It was so gratifyingly peaceful to fly above the madness below. This wonderful interlude of smooth flying illustrating how flying is such a poetic reminder that the sky is always blue, it’s just sometimes we can’t see it.
I reminded myself of this as we got closer to Bermuda when we had to move from the safety of the blue skies into the dark and heavy clouds below to land sending us rocking and rolling again. Each glimpse I got of the turquoise ocean between the dark clouds reminded me that even in the darkest hours there is hope. Then when I saw the runway break through the clouds I knew we were in the home stretch so the turbulence became a means to getting me to where I wanted to be – home. Another reminder that sometimes we have to endure challenges we did not anticipate but as long as we keep the end in view, we can overcome them all.
We landed in pouring rain. The colours of my picturesque home muted by the heaviness of the showers and clouds all around. At first I was disappointed but then I remembered we are not facing a Nor’easter like the people along the Northeast and I was home on my own soil, safe and sound with my family. Back to reality. Exhausted and relieved. And for these lessons I am truly grateful.