Wing Side Seats

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 For several years I've worked remotely from random corners of South Australia,  usually alone in a bedroom/office/corner of an Air Bnb with my head in south-west Queensland. 

Yesterday I got up way too early in the morning and caught a bus to Adelaide airport, where I got on a plane because that's what one does at airports.

Adelaide city was visible in the early morning haze beyond the airport.

I had a seat with a fantastic view of the wing.  Given my philosophy that if the plane crashed I wanted to go down with a good view, I wasn't impressed with my wing-side seat. The plane was full so I didn't try to swap, deciding instead to just wing it and incorporate the offending plane appendage into my photos.  

We flew over West Beach on take-off, Adelaide's long white beach front clearly visible,

followed by a great view of the Onkaparinga river mouth and gorge,

and a couple of hours later another great glimpse of Moreton Island's sand dunes on our approach to Brisbane airport.
 

I spent four tedious hours in Brisbane airport, entertaining myself by exiting only to check myself back in again for a second flight, and walking from one end to the other of the airport which is exactly as exciting as it sounds.

The second (much smaller) plane gave me even better seat placement with a view not only of the wing, but the engine and propeller to boot.  

Yay!
 

Last time I flew out to Roma the land below was bare and red, the dams dry, the wind trickling cold winter dust across barren paddocks and even the cypress pine trees dying for want of water.  This time around the sunset glinted off puddles in every corner of low-lying land and all the dams were full.  Not that I could see very much given the whole wing/engine situation.

I caught a quick glimpse of Brisbane City as we left,

 
and watched as fat little clouds caught the last rays of sunlight.
 

In no time at all (well, an hour and a half by the time luggage was sorted and lifts into town established) I had settled into my staff quarters bed, turned on the heater, and taken the first whiff of the uniquely sulphuric water of the Great Artisan Basin.  Ahh, olfactory memories...

Tomorrow, I go to work  in a real office with people and telephones and swipe cards and water coolers to chat by.  Actually there's not any water coolers, but the tea room performs the same function.

Wish me luck.

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