The albatross is such an exceptional flyer, that it can effortlessly cover over 620 miles in a day. This is impressive to a pilot of small planes like Tripp, but for this post there’s also another relevance to this bird in the Coleridge poem and associated idiom of an “albatross around the neck.” That is, a psychological burden that feels like a curse. In the first meaning here, sometimes while flying it feels like I’d prefer to Never land.
In the second meaning here, I sometimes imagine the psychological burdens borne by the guy who lived in the mansion hidden among the wizened ancient oaks here.
A short walk away lie the foundations of the carnival rides Michael Jackson had on this estate. What albatross around his neck led to the investment in creating an enormous playground here?
A little further along the tracks of his personal railroad was this cluster of buildings made to look like an idealized wild west town to house a petting zoo.
This fantasy land a few minutes flight from SBA is fascinating to contemplate as we fly past occasionally for another look. From up here it all somehow appears to me symptomatic of a troubled soul. The demons and delights in any person could also manifest in me. In my heart though there dwells a love of experiencing life not just in air but on land and in water. After the bliss of being aloft, other delights are enriched. Though the impulse may pass as the shadow of an albatross, I would not truly wish to never land.
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