Flying Home

A late afternoon flight on a western coast can provide some of the most stunning views you are ever likely to see. My flight from Perth to Karratha yesterday was delayed by an hour which was rather tiresome but meant that we were in the air as the sun set into the Indian Ocean. As it slowly lowered in the sky, changing from yellow to gold to red to pink, the landscape changed with it. Below us, the red hills of the Pilbara reflected the light, turning them an array of colours. The scattered, wispy clouds became pink candy floss, the ocean pink lemonade. It was beautiful. As we began our descent into Karratha, the sky had darkened and lights twinkled from houses, gas plants and distant tankers, occasionally illuminating the inky sea. Touching down on this Mars-like landscape I got the oddest feeling, one I never thought I would experience – I felt like I was coming home. Perhaps it had more to do with the fact that I was soon to be back with The Husband, as home will always be wherever he is. Driving back in the balmy early evening with the windows down, the deliciously cool breeze ruffling our hair, it felt right to be in Karratha. As long as we have each other and we continue to see the beauty in this strange, remote place, we’ll be alright here.