With apologies to Iggy Pop and Danny Boyle.
When it's dark out, you can see them among the stars. As the universe drifts imperceptibly overhead, they streak by between heaven and earth, manipulating physics by just enough to defy gravity if only for a few hours. They're nothing divine or ethereal of course—they're airplanes—but there's a certain something to watching them go by, wondering where they're headed. Houston to Doha? JFK to Venice? (The DHL hub outside Cincinnati to the other DHL hub in Leipzig? -Ed.)
But for some people, the planes are the the stars. And no place gets you closer to the stars than Los Angeles.
Known as LAX, Los Angeles International Airport is the third busiest airport in the world, the second busiest in the United States, and unlike most major airports sits directly in the middle of a major urban area with virtually no buffer around it. (It's also the only airport to have robbed legendary director Cecil B. DeMille of a beach house. -Ed.) Whereas arrivals to JFK normally descend over Jamaica Bay, at LAX they come in straight over the rooftops of Inglewood and Westchester. What it means for residential property values is up for debate, but what it means for plane spotters is that it's practically a second home.
As people pass overhead, they might even spot the spotters spotting them. There they are, over on Imperial Hill in El Segundo. For those headed towards either runway 24 Left or Right, they'll be waiting directly under the approach at the In-N-Out on the corner of Sepulveda.
But why even do it in the first place? Why the desire to get that close and document the comings and goings like it's a ballgame? Maybe a chance to bridge a physical separation, "compressing the cosmic." Maybe that urge to fly like we dream about sometimes. Maybe no particular reason at all.