View of the Rocky Mountains from the Sky Deck at Sunset.
If you’ve flown recently, you may have noticed something curious: more and more passengers keep the window shades down—sometimes for the entire flight.
That happened to me on a recent trip from Buffalo to Denver. I was headed to Colorado to spend time at our family farm near Greeley. As I boarded the plane, nearly every shade was pulled down tight.
Now, I understand this on a hot summer afternoon when airlines want to keep the cabin cool. But this was 8:00 in the morning in Buffalo.
Later, I learned there are practical reasons for it—routine preparation, consistency, habit. Shades down. Tray tables checked. Seats upright.
I was in an aisle seat.
As we pushed back from the gate, I asked the gentleman by the window if he’d mind opening the shade so we could at least watch takeoff. He kindly agreed.
I looked around.
We were the only people in our section able to see outside.
Picture this
It was a bright, beautiful morning, we were about to fly across America, and the cabin was dark enough that I needed to turn on my reading light.
Why were the shades down?
You guessed it.
Almost everyone was staring into a laptop, tablet, or phone.
And I believe I was the only one holding a book.
Now, I’ll admit—I’ve done productive work on airplanes myself. I’ve used the laptop, answered emails, and prepared talks.
But reading a good book at 35,000 feet feels like a luxury. Watching cartoons on a phone? Not quite the same experience. (Yes, I may be revealing my age.)
Thankfully, my seatmate kept the shade up for most of the flight.
My destination was our farm in Northern Colorado, where we have something we call The Sky Deck.
About fourteen years ago, my sister Judy had an idea. She wanted a place where you could see the Rockies and the vast plains surrounding our land. She shared the vision with a contractor who had never built anything like it before.
Five weeks later, the Sky Deck was complete.
It rises nearly twenty feet above the ground and offers a sweeping panoramic view of Colorado’s Front Range and the farmland below. Over the years, it has become far more than a platform. Judy has hosted weddings, picnics, educational events, and memorial services there.
As for me, I read there.
I drink morning coffee there.
I enjoy a glass of wine at sunset there.
And many times, I simply sit and look.
At the mountains.
At the sky.
At the high plains stretching outward.
It is usually quiet enough to hear birdsong and feel the wind moving across the land.
Some of my best writing has come from time spent on that deck. Creativity inspired by nature.
Nature may be the greatest innovation lab of all. It has been experimenting, adapting, and creating for billions of years. Nature inspires us. Restores us. Revives us.
So, think about this:
What better view of our world could there be than seeing it from seven miles high? We were above most of the weather. Higher than many mountain peaks by a wide margin. Crossing a mile every few seconds.
And yet many of us never looked up.
There was a time when flying meant faces pressed to the glass in wonder. Children gasped at clouds. Adults marveled at sunrise over Lake Erie or the patchwork fields below.
Now we close the shades, open the laptop, and miss the show.
So, the next time you need a little inspiration, book the window seat.
Pull up the shade.
Look outside.
Let the clouds, the sunlight, the rivers, the mountains, and the horizon remind you that there is still a big, beautiful world filled with ideas.
Give it a try.
You’ll be glad you did.
What inspiration have you received from looking out an airplane window?
