I recently flew to New York for a long weekend with my daughter, who lives and

works there. Yes I had a few momentary twinges of fear during the first few moments of

takeoff, but I very quickly forgot my anxiety as the flight continued.

It was 10 a.m., and as we flew over Chicago, I viewed our impressive skyline, and

was awed by the imagination and strength that created our dynamic city.

We quickly soared higher, and as the morning's fog burned off, I could see the

vastness of Lake Michigan virtually gleaming.

Soon we flew through and above the fluffiest of marshmallow clouds, until a purple

and pink coloration suffused the sky outside my window. It was of such surreal beauty

that I involuntarily turned to my reading neighbor, with whom I was unacquainted, and

tapped him on the shoulder, eagerly pointing to the magnificence before our eyes.

I was lucky enough to be flying on a perfectly clear day, and I was transfixed for

almost the entire flight of two-plus hours by the scenes below: tidy farmland and

glittering rivers snaking through the landscape.

As we approached New York, the pilot announced that those on the left side of the

plane would be able to see the Statue of Liberty. Unfortunately I was seated on the right

side, unable to unlock my seatbelt to view this inspiring symbol because we were landing shortly. But we did fly over lower Manhattan, where I could look down into the

still-smoldering and, surprisingly, small area where once stood the World Trade Center.

As we swooped over this heroic city en route to LaGuardia Airport, I was delighted by

the variety of the colossal buildings stacked side by side, each one an individual and

proud statement of industry and creative energy.

My daughter and I spent a glorious fall weekend in Brooklyn and New York, enjoying

the sights and foods and diversity of the people. We watched the skaters at Rockefeller

Center, participated in an improvisational play in SoHo, walked the boardwalk in

Brooklyn's Brighton Beach, and had our choice of every possible kind of restaurant you

could ever want.

Every street, every restaurant, every subway car was bustling with people of Far

Eastern, Middle Eastern, African, Oceanic and European descent, a testament to the

success of this city. Of course there were so many sad reminders of Sept. 11, including

the acrid odor of burning material as we walked the quiet streets surrounding ground

zero, as well as the many flower-filled shrines to the Sept. 11 victims.

Yet I urge anyone who has wanted to get on a plane and go somewhere special to do

so. Let us embrace life rather than fear death.

Sheila Malkind