If there were no planes for a day
If there were no planes for a day, a week or two I would enjoy the blue spring clouds hovering above on this sunny day. And relish the airplane-free roar of the skies.
I would be very sad to be far away from my children and family because of a trip I had to take, but understand that this is an act of nature and there is nothing anyone could have ever done.
I would stop writhing and thrashing over the inconvenience this ash cloud has brought upon me; and realize there is no speaking engagement more important, no business meeting more pressing nor world convention more significant than ensuring that the very people who will be traveling to these events will eventually reach their destinations in one piece.
I will be thankful that some group, some government, some scientist out there had the courage to ground all planes so that we’ll all be better off safe than sorry. And I would start praying for those people living in Iceland and nearby who are affected by this relentless pouring of ash rains. I shall wish for them clearer air and skies.
If I have containers of salmon in Heathrow waiting to be shipped to Japan and knowing that it might take sometime before they can be air-freighted, I would send them to Meals-for-the-Homeless volunteers or sell them to the local supermarkets for a lower price. I would rather lose money on it and know that somewhere, somehow, I was able to help people and they were able to enjoy it rather than let it rot and be thrown away in their containers.
I would take delight in the fact that for several days, we had a significant reduction in our carbon footprint in this part of the world. And I would be happy once flights resume, all seats will be filled and there shall be no half-empty transatlantic flights flying for a while.
I would stop whining and blaming the EU authorities for making a mess of the airline industry and start being grateful for their audacity. And if I were the airline industry, for once I might just realize that there are more important things than money, and that might be perhaps… safety?
I would imagine, just imagine, if I insist that the ash cloud does not pose any danger to aviation and then I get to fly. A debris gets caught in the plane’s wings and something happens. And I die.
And then I think to where I am now. Far away perhaps from where I want to be. But grateful that a few days or weeks of grounding planes is not so bad after all if it meant one more shot at a lifetime, a chance to be with my loved ones once again.