Flying from Los Angeles to Toronto is the final leg of the long journey from Melbourne. It was lucky that a) I was awake and b) this part of the flight was smooth and cloudless. It was like being at a art gallery only the desert is vast and the colours and contours change constantly. Every now and then there was a road going to a tiny community in the middle of nowhere. One wonders about the lives of the people who live there and the children who grow up away from modern society.
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