So often when I fly in or out of Chicago, especially when it’s having one of its long overcast stretches, it’s easy to forget there is blue sky up there. Somewhere.
It’s always there. Sometimes we just can’t see it. Kinda like life really, when you think about it.
But as the plane climbs through the clouds, literally into the blue yonder, there it is. The sun. Blue sky. Just how you remembered it.
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