I love flying into Oakland, California. On approach, the plane glides over San Francisco Bay, slowly getting lower and lower until it seems it will surely dip a wheel into the water, and as it lands, it appears to touch the earth. It is enchanting. I never tire of watching the drama unfold from my tiny window, though I admit a small knot of worry forms every time.
A Bucket Case
I love flying into Oakland, California. On approach, the plane glides over San Francisco Bay, slowly getting lower and lower until it seems it will surely dip a wheel into the water, and as it lands, it appears to touch the earth. It is enchanting. I never tire of watching the drama unfold from my tiny window, though I admit a small knot of worry forms every time.
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