Leaving Boulder, CO a mighty rain storm arrived as I set out for my flight over the clouds to New York City. Fat drops came wavering down and from the grass we danced. From the car eyes drank in the rare green of surrounding country side. Farewell tall mountains. The clouds brewed above and let out bursts of fury. Hail, rain, heavy drops, and claps of thunder too. We could barely see at times and the traffic nearly stopped. White peaks emerged, and the tents of Denver International Airport (DIA) stood proud. A lonely watchtower directs so many planes. Then in the air, the clouds abated, were boiling up to incus crowns. Rolling in radiatus lines, waves in the stratus gave way to sea and channels in the sea before darkness came. And lines of light from a glowing apple broke that darkness. Hello NYC.