I’m in the first month of early retirement from an airline career where I served as a pilot. Now, my main role is that of “Mr. Mom” to two young sons. My eldest boy is three and his younger brother is 19 months. My lovely wife, also a professional pilot, has many years to go before she can consider her retirement. Even though I’m no longer at the controls of a jetliner I find myself still flying at mach speeds but in a much different capacity. Now, instead of being away from home for prolonged periods of time, I am at home trying to maintain the homestead 24 hours around the clock. I no longer have the luxury escape of a different hotel room every night. When my wife is out flying, I find myself flying solo with only two young passengers. The excitement and exhilaration of my new position is certainly different. I really cannot compare shooting an approach to minimums in bad weather to that of changing a dirty diaper. But to me the pressure is all the same. I love my new role and I’m sure I will become a seasoned pro with time.
In all the years of flying I never once saw the contrails of the aircraft I was flying. The other day as I was taking my boys out for a drive in the country, I noticed the sky filled with contrails. It was a very abstract scene and reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock painting. Viewing the sunrise and sunset from ground level and not from miles high in the sky will be different but I will cherish each just the same. This is what I saw.
