Up Up And Away Little Cancer Moon

Honey, don’t even talk to me about technology. Flying is an act of faith.

We’re over 10,000 feet as I type this and the man sitting next to me got not only a diet coke but a coffee too. Clearly his bladder is far stronger than mine.

I’m closer to the stars right now than maybe I’ve ever been, and still not that close πŸ™‚

I remember making trips when I was in college (?) listening to my Walkman, to the Byrds’ “Eight Miles High” for every take off.

Memory lane, my friends, memory lane. The Moon is in Cancer and looking right at you. The past.

“Cookies, pretzels, peanuts?” the flight attendant asks and we’re all so damn cozy here, with or without wi-fi. We’re warm, we’re safe, we’re flying, we have faith.

“These people are my kin,” is what I felt and thought during my Byrds-free take off.

Only miles and more miles to go πŸ™‚

Happy Sun in Aries,

Love MP

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