My house underlies the downwind leg for OAK's Rwy 30, and I can easily see both OAK and SFO from my windows. Traffic departing SFO 1R on the TRUKN pretty much always flies directly over my house. So it's astonishing just how quiet the skies have been these past few days.

It makes me realize how much we as pilots, and as humans, take for granted. Leave aside all of the arguments about pay, reflow, reserve, and (ugh) jumpseats, and the fact remains that our jobs allow us to see and experience things that no non-pilot could understand.

Like the setting sun turning the marine layer fiery orange as you skim its tops at 250 knots.

The mesmerizing sight of flying through rain or snow at night, where it feels like you're in a spaceship at warp speed, and the raindrops are the stars sailing by you.

Or those quiet moments at FL370, perhaps at night over the Intermountain West, with the Milky Way so crystal-clear you feel you've already achieved orbit.

It makes me realize just how much I will miss this if it is taken from me. In spite of all the ramp delays, the penalty boxes, the min-credit standups, the online bickering amongst pilot groups, the frozen preflights at oh-dark-thirty (can you tell I'm a standup guy?), the lousy hotel coffee, the endless van rides, the partying college kids in the hotel room next door at 0300, and so on...

...it's stlll worth it.

Just to see what we get to see, and to know that we belong to a very special group of people.

I'm not sure what the future holds. But whatever happens, nothing can take away the memories of the places I've been, the things I've seen, and the awesome people I've shared it all with.

See you all on the line.

"Turbosina"