This morning, I found an unexpectedly deserted bit of London: its skies. I was on an in-bound plane from D.C. We were 50 minutes late because that's how late the incoming plane was, but nothing else had delayed us. The skies of London were deserted. No stack. No waiting. We flew to London and proceeded directly to Heathrow to land.
No line at passport control. Bags ready-and-waiting at baggage claim. Some people on the plane had been waiting for days to be rebooked on a flight in London after all the past snow-related cancellations. We were lucky, hitting the clear side of the storm, the gap in the city's aerial congestion.
Home at last.