Above the Pacific

The sea glistened from 36,000 feet. Small white dots on the blue carpet reflect solar rays, but I could not tell the true origin - boat, wave, or other. Cumulo-stratus clouds interrupted the view of the deep blue, hovering and creating distinctive shadows on the azure seascape. At eye level, alto-cirrus clouds acted as a local ceiling to select areas of the sky. While I admired the ocean - truly in a Pacific state so far - I longed to see an island or atoll below. I need perspective for this panorama. Earlier I had searched for a tropical storm, a typhoon, to quench my thirst for geo-relativity. I knew they couldn't form over these seas (we were off the coast of Kamchatka), but I hoped for a dying beast that still held meteorological wrath as it swept its way north.

As we continue south, thunderstorms grow off to the East. Temporary ivory towers reaching up to our cruising altitude as lesser clouds mill about below, serfs paying homage to the king of the aerial feudal system. Such is the daily ebb and flow of the maritime skyline, contrasting the timeless landscapes we are accustomed to. Within hours, it will all be gone as storms move and dissipate while others grow. Numerous empires collapse, surrounded by lesser white puffs that resemble cottage cheese below, or layers of cake icing suspended in mid air above them.

As we pass over Taipei, Taiwan (ROC), I can see the melding of the city to the rugged landscape of the island. Roads, rivers, and buildings are all visible, and ships exit the harbor on their way to offshore markets worldwide. The interior of the island is a formidable forested mountain range, from which the short but sizable rivers run. Taiwan's population is clustered along these rivers as they emerge from the highlands to show their braided stream channels full of silt from the season rains. The periphery, particularly the western side that my window faces, holds most of the island's residents. The mountains look ominously over the coastal cities through the partial cloud cover that attempts to hide them. The lowlands, however, are not to be underestimated. Industrial sites are well developed, and are surrounded by geometric retention ponds, fish farms, or rice paddies.

Finally, another sight I had longed to see: the Inter-tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ). This line of thunderstorms circles the globe roughly corresponding to the Equator, but migrates north of it in the summer, and south of it during (our) winter. It marks the meeting point of the NE and SE trade winds that bring so much precipitation to the tropics. The line sits just south of Hong Kong today, with consistent cumulus clouds along its path, extending the length of the E-W horizon, and indeed around the world. Towering cumulonimbus monsters are interspersed as well; one particularly large one was easily over 45,000 ft. high. Tomorrow it may move south, en
route to its winter home. Earth is underestimated.

United Flight 869
August 16, 2006 3-4pm
Over the Pacific Ocean off the coasts of Japan and China