30,000 feet in the air. Suspended by technology and - unthinkably - steel and plastic and impenetrable glass. Crane your neck, look down. Through the emulsified strands of wispy clouds set against a backdrop of unimaginable blue - do you see it? The contours of the earth, the microscopically nondescript rug of green and brown, the checker board patterns of agriculture and history. Dots of towns and places. Places with doctors, preachers, murderers, mechanics. Do you see it? Do you really see it? America, panoramic. Comprehensive and sweeping. Your eyes tell you that’s its unlimited. Your brain tells you its not. The world stretches out lazily before you with intimidating beauty. 30,000 feet in the air, time and sound are meaningless. A ceiling of azure that masks the black above. Do you see it? Can you feel it? Panoptic. Moving. Heartbreaking.