Sweet Land of Liberty

I believe I saw my first plateau today. It’s strange to use the word plateau outside of a business setting - in recent history, I have used it to describe an area of a graph, a condition or state of being of particular business matters. But it’s been quite a long time since I visualized an actual plateau outside of the business setting.

Flying to California today, I looked out of my airplane window and marveled at the land below. I’m always in awe whenever I fly over the western part of our country. The land takes on different shapes and colors and few highways and cities mar its beauty. In a world of overpopulation and pollution, it’s refreshing to know that land exists that is still – somewhat – untouched by human hands.

Among the wrinkled mountains, snaking rivers and isolated lakes, I saw the first plateau. It looked as if a knife had horizontally cut off its peak, its sides rising from the dusty ground, only to be abruptly sliced flat. The last time I truly thought of a plateau in its most essence form was middle school social studies, learning about different land forms along with Native Americans and cloud formation. But it wasn’t until today when I really saw one in person – or maybe took the time to really notice.

And then I saw another one. And another. Each one took on a slightly different form, one was small and contained, another much larger. And then the mack-daddy of all plateaus – one whose sides rose from the ground, but the flat top extended for as far as I could see from 35,000 miles in the air.

On these western trips, I am constantly amazed by the vastness of our country. And while there are politics in this country that enrage us, war that fractions us, racism that divides us, and miles that separate us, we should all be united in that we are Americans, in that we live on and share this beautiful land. This land is our country and knowing that should bring us solidarity as a common people, as Americans. That no matter how different we are or how much we disagree or how many mistakes we sometimes make, we share this journey, this culture and this land together. Maybe if we embraced that solidarity more, embraced the pride in our patriotism, we would feel more like a family that argues and less like a garment that is ripping apart at its seams.