...The cloud tops were now rolled into gentle hummocks and swales, and like a sleigh riding to Grandma's house, I rode the plane over the bright and drifted cloudscape. As I crested a ridge, it was time to turn towards the airport, and I slid down along the back of the cloud and into the mists at the bottom.

East of Cayuga Lake, looking west northwest, the two lines of clouds lay directly above the long and slender Cayuga and Seneca Lakes.