Perspective

The curve of the road is pulling my car northbound. Above the jagged Jemez is the moon, full and proud symbol of autumn. A jet is sluggishly rising as if to pierce it. The movement of the plane is agonizingly slow; it is the height of anticipation to watch it ascend. It's the ultimate battle of physics, gravity giving it all in pushing down on the machine. The metallic body, born of earth, pulling upward the desert, the peaks, the whole of the landscape. Then suddenly, my road levels out, the wings of the plane stabilize, and it accelerates toward the south, gone in seconds.

On the turntable: Toku, "Chemistry of Love"
On the nighttable: David Lavender, "Bent's Fort"