Although "Window Seat: Reading the Landscape from the Air" by Gregory Dicum is more of an undersized coffee table book than serious writing, people like me are going to get sucked into this tome like the air through a jet turbine. You see, I, and apparently many more people than I previously thought, comprise an oddball group of travelers who actually relish the view from 35,000 feet and who always double check their reservations in advance to make sure, absolutely and unequivocally sure, that we have reserved a widow seat on our flight. Yes, we are those annoying people on the transcontinental flight where you have to call the flight attendant: "Sir, will you please pull down your widow shade....?" As one of my few fellow window seat freaks once put it, "Are you kidding? The view over the Grand Canyon is worth the hassle and cost of the flight alone!"
Therefore, the seminal concept of "Window Seat: Reading the Landscape from the Air" is exiting enough. As one who has actually taken small binoculars and maps on flights, the mere thought of a book that would help guide me along designated flight patterns was enough to give me shivers of anticipation. Upon reading a brief review in the New York Times Book Review, the book immediately went on my list.
But don't toss the topographic and Rand McNally highway maps just yet, my fellow window seaters. Apparently, we may have a monstrous case of buyer beware here. The book clearly lacks much of what many would anticipate,i.e. window seat pictures and interpretations thereof. In fact, the majority of the book contains cropped satellite photos scaled to approximately 35,000 feet or greater. Although the pictures are of exquisite quality, they are not window seatpictures, and do not necessarily offer window seaters good insights as to what they may observe on say, their twelfth trip from Houston to Orange County, California.
The book is laid out according to geographical province: the Great Plains,the Pacific Northwest, the Northeast and so forth. The emphasis is on specific features, however, with much importance given to natural phenomena such as mountains, glaciers, lakes and rivers. Human made features such as farm acreage, manufacturing, refining as well as petroleum and mining operations are also depicted. Several major metropolitan are beautifully presented from cropped satellite photos. The accompanying text may be judged as annoyingly simplistic, but the glass may be half full here. This book could easily be read and understood by late elementary - early middle school ages.
So my criticism of the book remains guarded. Window seaters need to pause for a collective breath here; what we fantasize may not be realizable. Realistically, what do you normally see at 35,000 feet looking out the window, even on a clear ride? Whitish blue, with a few outlines, brief flashes of reflected light on water, an interstate cutting through a brown desert. I almost suspect that if Dicum had submitted true window seat pictures to editors he would have been rebuffed.
Conversely, many, myself included, have done cross country pictures from low altitude prop aircraft, but as with the satellite pictures, these do not effectively present the window seat world at 35,000 feet. Perhaps a true window seat project would be an immense undertaking, requiring permission to traverse frequently used flight paths with a converted commercial or private airline, retrofitted to take aerial photography at various and sundry angles.
So Dicum may be appealing to our best flight experiences. Oh, if I could have recorded what I saw taking off from John Wayne to Minneapolis, that one clear day. A "braked" steep takeoff. A grand sweep over the Pacific Ocean and subsequent view of Orange County then Riverside County, both Interstates 15 and 5 clear as a bell, all the way back to the ocean itself. Up over Mt. San Jacinto and northeast to the Colorado River and then to the Grand Canyon.
"Sir, will you please lower your shade....?"
".....No.... thank you"