I was thirty-seven years old and sitting in the seat of a Boeing 747. The huge plane was descending through thick rain clouds and was about to land at Hamburg Airport. The chilly November rain darkened the ground, making the mechanics in their raincoats, the flags on top of the airport building, the BMW billboards, and everything else look like the background of a gloomy Flemish painting. Oh dear, Germany again, I thought.
ใAs soon as the plane touched down, the no-smoking sign disappeared and background music began to play in low tones from the speakers on the ceiling. It was the Beatles' "Norwegian Wood" played sweetly by some orchestra. And the melody confused me as usual. No, it confused and shook me far more intensely than usual.
ใI bent down and covered my face with my hands to keep my head still. Eventually a German stewardess came and asked me in English if I was feeling sick. I told her I was fine, just a little dizzy.
Are you sure you're okay?"
I said, "I'm fine, thank you. The stewardess smiled and left, and the music changed to Billy Joel. I lifted my head to look at the dark clouds floating over the North Sea and thought about the many things I had lost over the course of my life. Time lost, people who have died or left, thoughts that will never return.
ใI remained in that grassy field until the plane came to a complete stop and people started unbuckling their seatbelts and taking their bags and jackets out of their bins. I smelled the grass, felt the wind on my skin, and heard the birds. It was the fall of 1969, and I was about to turn 20.
ใThe same stewardess came in, sat down next to me, and asked if I was all right.
She said, "I'm fine, thank you. It's all right now, thank you, I only felt lonely, you know.
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