As I fasten my seat belt I remember how we started the engines yesterday. How the sudden and suspicious hush fell in the cockpit as the airflow for the air-conditioning units was diverted; how air alone began to spin the enormous techno petals of the fans, spin them and spin them, faster and faster, until fuel and fire  were added, and each engine woke with a low rumble that grew to a smooth and unmistakable roar – the signature of one of our age’s most perfect means of purifying and directing physical power.

Skyfaring – A Journey with a Pilot – Mark Vanhoenacker

Four years ago when I noticed I owned about 4000 books I made a commitment of not buying anymore and depending on our wonderful Vancouver public library system. I have been tempted many times by book reviews I read in my daily NY Times (hard copy) and particularly in the Sunday Book Review. But I resist and have until now.

I broke down after finding that there were over 25 holds at the Vancouver Public Library for Mark Vanhoenacker’s Skyfaring.

I went to Chapters on Broadway and Granville and purchased the book.

Alas! This book is like spooning very good honey. You have to do it in small portions. The book is so good, every paragraph, every sentence sings. It is similar to reading novels written by poets or by poets who never wrote poetry but only novels. José Saramago is one of the latter and Mexican poet Homero Aridjis the former. And there is Vancouver's George McWhirter another poet who also writes novels.

Such is the beauty of every page of Skyfaring that I look forward to getting into bed late at night to perhaps read at the most half a chapter.

As Rosemary and I prepare to downsize (a word that Vanhoenacker would shun for its unmusicality) I know that my book collection even when compressed to fewer than 4000 will have to include this splendid one. 

In Flight