2011 ended quietly, somewhere over Greenland.
It’s hard to say where, even when the calendar rolled over to 2012. I know that I left Seattle on Saturday afternoon, clear skies, unseasonably warm temperatures, and a lovely view of The Mountain over the hangers.
I dropped into New York City about 9 pm, the city aglow and the skyline shimmering in a faint haze. Television monitors in the deserted SkyLounge showed massive crowds jamming into Times Square: no fireworks dotted the horizon when I left at 10:30 pm.
I would have expected an announcement from the captain, perhaps a bit of champagne instead of wine for the discount-seekers filling his plane on a holiday evening. A friend told me this afternoon that BA did hold a small celebration aboard his flight.
But ours passed quietly. I landed at Heathrow at 11 am on Jan 1, 2012, to clear skies, unseasonably warm temperatures, and a lovely view of, well, Hounslow over the hangers.
So, in the absence of alternative New Year’s Celebrations, I publish this year’s “Dad And Daughter” picture: Happy New Year from the random salmon sculpture marking the entrance to metropolitan Woodinville. I wish you all the very best!