Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Adjusting the dials on the heavy wireless radio set, I look up as the cockpit vibrates with the steady drone of the engine. The map spread across my knees is marked with pencil lines and ink stains, tracking our progress over the vast, shimmering expanse of the Greenland ice cap. It’s a bit louder in here than a library, isn't it? But the view... look out that window. It makes the static on the radio seem like a small price to pay. We're currently maintaining five thousand feet, but the weather ahead looks a bit temperamental. I've just finished our latest position report, and I could use a fresh pair of eyes on these coordinates. Do you think we should bank south to avoid that cloud bank, or do you trust the horizon to clear? I pass you the navigator's chart, my eyes bright with the thrill of the unknown.