yearning

Today, sitting in the library, I became absolutely positive that I could smell the airport.  Now let me just say that when I'm having a bad day (and today wasn't really a good one) I like to imagine myself in the airport, so smelling it in the library did a bit to pick up my spirits.  Airports smell like adventure.  They smell like coffee, and Saran-wrapped sandwiches.  They smell like sterile bathrooms and bubblegum sold at magazine stands (and for that matter they smell like fresh paper and ink).  They even smell like people, a little stale from traveling.  I love the hugeness of airports.  I love the people emptying their pockets to go through security and the feel of your boarding pass, knowing that that small piece of paper will take you away.  I love that you can be incredibly lonely in an airport even though you are surrounded by people.  I love people watching in the airport: hassled parents herding children with pink rolly backpacks, business suit people looking bored, older couples going on vacation (fanny pack in firmly in place), teenagers with headphones in, groups of college students setting out to explore the world, and my favorite, field trips with a huge group of little kids running around in matching t-shirts, nametags, and ball caps.

And then there is me and while I'm watching all of those people, I'm wondering who is watching me.  What category will they put me in?  (And don't even get me started on the people that work at the airport...what is life like for them?)  Also, when I think of airports I think of the movie Love Actually and this quote:

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion... love actually is all around.

Basically, I love the airport.  I love traveling.  I don't love today and I don't always love being where I am, but knowing that the airport is there for me makes me feel a lot better.  It will never get impossibly bad because I can jet off on an adventure at any moment.

(This photography is from Sergio Vaiani's flickr posts)

Don't forget to go outside (or at least claim the window seat so you can watch the clouds)  :)

Chelsea