It is a trite remark to say "My office has the best view" when describing the life of an airline pilot; it however does ring true many days. I was watching the sunrise while climbing out of the West Virginia mountains. The locals often call it by God West Virginia. The verdant green hills are cloaked in wispy, misty veils of fog. The sun pierces the horizon and fills the cockpit with a brilliant glow. The quiet earth below slowly comes to life. Shadows of the night retreat as the morning progresses. Some of the dark hollers remain cloaked. Meanwhile air traffic control issues a frequency change and we enter the clouds. A brief but brilliant rainbow flashes by. That was last Tuesday.
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