In Terminal F at the Atlanta airport, the windows run floor to ceiling. When one of the big trams-Atlantic planes is at the gate, looming right up against the window, it dominates the scene. The docked plane then becomes the center of a beehive of activity, which itself is a riveting sight.
You don’t truly appreciate the massiveness of modern jet aircraft until you see them up close. It’s great that the designers of Terminal F gave us that view.
I suppose you have to give the realtor selling this French Quarter property credit for truth in advertising. Or maybe there’s a market for condos that you share with a poltergeist.
It’s been a rainy few days in New Orleans–but it hasn’t been a consistent rain. Instead, I feel like Forrest Gump — we’ve seen fat rain, and skinny rain, and windy rain, and rain so powerful you feel like it’s going to knock the roof down.
The most impressive rain storms are what Midwesterners would call gullywashers, with rain so heavy it turns streets into lakes and instantly soaks whoever is caught in the downpour. We watched one such storm advance up the Mississippi River, the rain forming a kind of gray curtain as it swept forward. It gave us fair notice to scurry under cover before the deluge came.