When I fly, the airplane doesn't care about my mood or opinion. It demands to be treated in just the right way. It's like a close friend who doesn't put up with your nonsense. It tells you straight to your face if you're doing something wrong and rewards you when you handle things right. My airplane is my psychiatrist and Blue Cross never has to know about it.

I have never been scared in my plane the way I am constantly on edge when driving in LA. Sure. the airplane is just a machine that makes a lot of noise, costs too much, and is frequently burdened by crazy governmental rules. But who among us while sleeping have never dreamed of running though a field and taken flight? I've done it while awake.

Thanks, Wilbur and Orville.

James Aronovsky is a professional photographer who frequently flies to out-of-town assignments. He can be reached at jamesaronovsky@hotmail.com.