well said

"how do you explain this sort of feeling to those who dont fly? how do you explain color to somebody blind from birth? passengers in airlines see the tops of the clouds, can see a sunrise, a sunset, but the motion is missing. a carnival ride gives you the motion, but the freedom is missing. when an airplane feels right to someone well-trained to fly it, its as if you are a part of it, as if its an extension of yourself, your will, your personality. you think, and it does like a hand or an arm. its in your bones, almost. it isnt an airplane, just you, with wings, free to go and do whatever you please...
all those years they actually paid me to do this. imagine. what a deal! how many people make their livings doing a thing they would gladly do for free? ill admit my mind wandered. i noticed the smog, and thought about muroc way back in the early days, and how we noticed and talked about the smog in L.A. before anyone even gave it a name. i thought about sonic booms, and how much fun it had been to make those back when truman was president, shaking up people below who didnt know what they were. i remembered, as i surveyed alabama below me, the thought that occurred to me as a kid back in training: all this is mine!"

Col. Bud Anderson from his book To Fly To Fight. Bud led a fighter group in WWII, was a triple ace in that war, had his hand in all the best test flying of the century, and still flies a p-51 around the country. i had the great priviledge to meet him last year at oshkosh. i just finished his book on the ride home from work today and ive never read a passage where someone was able to come close to what it is about flying...