It is frustrating. I am on a flight to Las Vegas for work. I had written over two thousand words and the computer crashed. I had been trying to save the documents, but it just wouldn't let me. So, I'm trying to pick up my train of thought from this morning and rewrite things. Perhaps it will be better written. On the other hand, I worry about thoughts that escape me.

Friends have suggested that I may have seasonal affective disorder. Starting around October or November, I find that I seem to become melancholy more often. There may be other factors leading to this, like old hidden memories beneath the surface of my awareness, but still affecting me. It may simply be the added challenges of the coming winters.

I find it harder to get up when it is still dark out, and even more difficult when it is chilly. Nonetheless, I dragged myself out of bed at five in the morning so that I could get ready for my flight.

The dog did not ask to go out when I got up and decided to rest a little longer. I made my oatmeal and coffee and briefly sat down at the computer to check on things. In New York, the police had raided the Occupy Wall Street encampment. The pundits were talking about the latest missteps of various Republican Presidential candidates. Friends were greeting one another online, and I checked on various websites.

I gathered my stuff and headed off to the airport. The dreariness was compounded by a mostly overcast sky, filled with stratocumulus clouds. Most of the leaves have fallen off the trees, and the trunks and branches stood naked and grey against the grey sky. In some places there were still leaves on the trees, but all that was left were brown leaves. The bright colors of fall had passed. The road itself exuded grayness.

From time to time their were splashes of color. Bright red tail lights, the red and blue of the flashing lights of a police car on the side of the highway. The green exit signs and yellow warning signs along add brief glimpses of color as well. Shen the sun managed to rise and break through the clouds it was a yellow sunrise without much for colors.

I had driven to the airport about a month earlier for a trip to a social media and health care conference at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN. The route to the airport is fairly simple and straight forward, and I was sure I remembered the various turns. So, I didn't print out directions or enter the destination into the GPS in the cell phone.

For some reason, I thought that the exit was Exit 36. Before that exit, I started seeing signs for Bradley International Airport. Yet Exit 36 came and went, without the airport exit. I began to worry about if I had missed the exit and reached into my pocket to fish out my cell phone. However, before I could get it out and enter the airport destination, I saw a sign for Exit 40, which was the exit I was looking for.

I followed the familiar route to the airport, recognizing various signs along the way. At the airport, I proceeded to the Terminal B parking area. This is a cheap parking lot that is rarely full and is not a bad walk to Terminal A.

I followed the walkway to Terminal A, cross the street, and entered the terminal. In side, I pulled out my cell phone, checked in on Foursquare and proceeded to the ticketing booths.

The ticketing booths were up an escalator. The booths for my airline were at the other end of the terminal from where I entered so, I had more of a walk. In entered the serpentine maze of ropes leading up to the ticketing booths. In years past, I would speak with an agent to get my boarding pass. Now, the agents are replaced with kiosks. I entered my confirmation number into the kiosk and my ticket was printed out. The next stop was security.

Bradley International Airport in near Hartford is a relatively small commercial airport, and I've always made it through security fairly quickly and easily. Many of my flights are early morning flights which makes it even quicker.

Today, there was an older woman waiting in line in front of me. She had a couple large containers of fluids; hand lotions, hair conditioners. They were too large and were confiscated. This flustered the woman and further slowed down the process. I took off my shoes and emptied the contents of my pockets into one of the large grey trays. I put my computer bag in another tray and removed the computer. The weather has been warm, so I didn't have my coat. The various trays went through the Xray machine, and I walked to the scanner. Nothing beeped and I proceeded to the other side, where I gathered my belongings.

I trekked down the halls to Gate 4. My boss, who is flying with me to Las Vegas was already at the gate. He often arrives early. We sat and talked about what was going on at the office as we waited for our flight to board.

We were some of the first to board and got good seats. My boss always likes to sit on the aisle, and I always like to sit by the window, so we travel well together. It was a full flight, yet the plane boarded fairly quickly. We were fortunate that no one sat in the middle seat and a flight attended congratulated us on our good luck. I joked that perhaps it was because I don't take a shower for the week before I travel, and I often get empty seats around me.

It may well be, however, that our luck was actually due to the young woman seated with her infant across the aisle from us. Many people try to avoid sitting near a baby for fear of a long flight full of screams.

The plane headed out onto the runway. Glancing out the window, I noticed our runway number, 15-33. Runways are numbered after the points on a compass. 0, or 36, I don't remember, is the number for north. South is 18. East is 9 and west is 27. 15 would be southeast and 33 would be northwest. Depending on which way the wind is blowing, you could take off either direction and the lower number on runways always seems to be 18 less than the higher number. In some cases, an L or R is added to the runway number. This is for larger airports with parallel runways, to distinguish which is the left runway and which is the right run way.

My boss commented about how amazing it was that these heavy planes, full of heavy people could actually get off the ground. Looking out the window, I saw us head onto the runway to prepare for take off. I glanced at the lights and the familiar markings.

My mind went to the book Ridley Walker, which I had read many years ago. It was about a post apocalyptic London as the inhabitants tried to make sense of their life and their surroundings as they relearned simple things, like making charcoal.

What would inhabitants of a post apocalyptic America make of airports?

We began to roll down the runway and soon we were in the air. Outside, the gray of the morning, had given way to purplish hues. I looked down on a school with a tiny school bus pulling out of the parking lot. Beyond was a quarry with miniature toy trucks. I stream came out of the quarry and looked unnaturally shiny as if there was oil floating on the water.

Above, the stratocumulus clouds were a blanket of light gray. In places, there were holes in the blanket where the light shown down like biblical beams highlighting one area or another. In other places, the sky beneath the clouds also appeared gray and blurry as if it were raining.

As we approached the canopy of clouds, the turbulence increased. It became more pronounced as we passed through the clouds. Once we were above the clouds it briefly settled down and I looked down through holes in the clouds. We crossed a river with a bridge crossing it. I tried to guess what river it was, perhaps the Hudson? But I didn't recognize the bridge or the land formations, and couldn't be sure. Soon, the clouds closed in again, and the turbulence increased.

The flight service of snacks and drinks was delayed.