Flying Out of O'Hare at Night

I flew from O'Hare at night yesterday, after being with family for Uncle Ralph's funeral that morning. The sky was cloudless and the lights of Chicago arched on as far as I could see, a beautiful sight. Who wants to read when there's such beauty below. Most of the lights were in straight lines, intersecting at right angles and forming squares. It's easy to tell when one is flying above the midwest vs. flying above the southeast, where roads and lights meander over and around mountains, foothills, and creeks.

As we traveled on, the pilot came on the intercom and told the passengers that we were over Indianapolis; that next we'd fly south of Cincinnati, then Lexington KY, then Asheville NC, then Greenville-Spartanburg. I followed the path and saw it all. Amazing how we can travel that far in an hour and a half.
On the initial flight on Saturday, we flew above the clouds most of the way. Twice I saw another plane also flying in the stratosphere, above the big storm that crippled much of the eastern side of the upper midwest. We didn't get this close (this is not my photo), not even too close for comfort, but it was interesting to see other planes winging their way in other directions, six miles above the earth, 500 or so miles per hour, full of passengers, no traffic lights, no wrecks, no road rage.