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Check out this article from Lynne Robinson's "new" Jersey Girl blog: I couldn’t blog on the plane so I grabbed a sheet of paper from Rick and started writing. Here is an excerpt. snip > I used to love flying. I’ve done a lot of it over the years, especially with our two European assignments. Back and forth to the U.S. and some exotic locales. Today though I don’t enjoy it as much. I suffer from mini panic attacks. My heart pounds. My palms sweat. My Rescue Remedy spray is always close at hand. It’s irrational, I know. We just took off from Newark Airport after being 20th in line for take-off. Not at our cruising altitude yet and all is calm. The cute older man in the seat behind me chatters excitedly, giving a running commentary on what he sees out the window: the Vietnam Memorial, and oh! there’s Long Beach Island! Sure enough as I glance out the window the Jersey Shore lies like a sandy ribbon on my left. The sun’s morning rays turn the rivers below into gilded, winding snakes. I see estuaries; bays. The far Eastern edge of the United States. Right now as I sit on our sea-view balcony, the crashing roar of the waves is deafening. ~~ ... boom! swoosh ... ~~  The sea is rather angry and agitated today due to a storm front passing through. Our bellman told us that normally it is so calm and serene that you can see fish at the tops of the waves. Not so today. Our resort is “all-inclusive,” meaning literally all you can drink or eat. We have four restaurants within the resort to choose from for all our meals. The service is impeccable. The minute you finish your drink or look as if you need something else, like magic a liveried person appears at your side offering more. If my wine glass even started to look in the slightest bit drained, it almost immediately got filled back up again. Kind of like a never-ending bottle of wine. A bit dangerous, don’t you think? Our room reflects the color of the sea beyond our window, decorated in turquoise and pristine white. A very calming and comfortable room.  I normally don’t think of myself as a tropical climate kind of girl, but I think I could get used to it. The sea mesmerizes with its endless rhythm of waves. I find myself gazing mindlessly into its turquoise vastness. Waiting, just waiting, for the next wave to come crashing to shore. One finishes its crescendo while another is waiting to take center stage right behind it. They wipe my mind clean of thoughts.