Every time I fly somewhere, my favorite moment is take off. It’s such a rush to watch out the window as the airplane gains speed. Soon the markers on the edge of the runway are indistinguishable blurs as we speed past them. And finally the plane lifts off and the earth drops away.
It’s in those moments just before and after takeoff, and again at landing when you can most clearly sense the speed at which you’re traveling. Most of a flight is spent so high and far from the ground that it’s difficult to grasp your speed. Out the window, the ground rolls by at a snails pace. The clouds in the distance move similarly slow.