Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I’m sitting in Detroit Metropolitan Airport killing three and a half hours between flights on my way to New York. I used to dread such long layovers, but now I consider them a bonus of free time.

After a stop at Starbucks, I head for a comfortable chair that is as far away from a television screen as one can get and still hear flight announcements. Then I turn on my iPod and either read, crochet, or do some creative writing on my computer. Some airports have free WiFi, but Detroit doesn’t so I’m really disconnected from my work world. Can’t check email, can’t Google®, can blog but can’t post it.

Since it’s Sunday, I bought The Chicago Tribune at an airport kiosk and have luxuriated in reading it without thinking I should be paying bills or ironing or practicing piano. Currently I’m listening to Handel’s “Music for the Royal Fireworks” and feeling rested, even though airline travel itself can be an exhausting experience.