I often look up to the sky. To catch the ghostly sight of white lines etched into the blue yonder
Residue of flying machines trail blazing through the stratosphere ... Sky Lines I call them
Random strokes of white splashed against a translucent blue canvas
No hint if they were coming or going
Empty cocoons or filled to the brim with passenger?
On business... On leisure... On Arrival... On Departure...
Wherever they go, they leave behind a memory of where they once were
I often look up to the sky to see the lines in the sky to remind myself that I am still here
(Photos taken in: Germany, Hungary, Turkey, Malaysia and Singapore)