Oh, the places you'll go

We get some flyover traffic here, being roughly due east of San Francisco. I like to watch the planes come in and out, and I marvel at where they could be coming from, and where they might go. I remember the direction we took to Paris more or less, and when one follows anything I can deliberately fantasize is a similar track, my brain flows with a mixed vision of my experienced there, my next visit, and all the imagined lives of the millions of people it could be on that plane. Boggles my mind.

My world is finite, and yet so infinite!