Tom's Flight Dreams

I've topped the winds-swept heights where never Lark or even Eagle flew...


Dreams of Flight

For most people today, flying is just a means of getting some place. You stand in endless lines, crowd into a long tube with hundreds of strangers, endure hours of moderate discomfort, only to arrive someplace else. I feel sorry for all those who think that is flying - it is nothing more than being transported.


On the pages of this website and its associated travel blog, I will try to capture some of the wonderment that to me is Flight. Please feel free to peruse its pages and thoughts. I am creating the site for myself, my friends and family, but those I have never met who find some enjoyment in its contents, welcome. Please use the menu tabs to the left to navigate to the various flight-oriented areas I have created.


For me, Flying is the wondrous journey of the body and spirit through the skies over Earth. It’s about the freedom that flight brings, the ability to escape the mundane regimentation of everyday life, and the exploration of the always-changing skies. Flying has taken me place I never dreamed of, introduced me to people I would otherwise not have met, and "done a hundred things you have not dreamed of”.


Some authors and poets have captured various essences of what flight offers, as well as freedom that being a pilot offers. I will share some of their quotes on these pages, in the hopes that their words will speak to you as well.

Number of visitors to this website since November 22, 2018:




by John Gillespie Magee, Jr, 1941


Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds -- and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of -- wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew.

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untresspassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.