Sleeping on an airplane is like sleeping right at the edge of consciousness. You hear everything, but you hear nothing. I often dream while flying and awake only in time for the in flight snack. How is that possible? Snack fairy perhaps? But, this morning at 12:03am Alaska time (4:04am EST), it seemed that I was brought out of my not so deep slumber for a reason. Perhaps the "sprit of Alaska" woke me to answer that one question I asked in my first Anchorage, Alaska travel blog post, "why to people think Alaska is so great?". My iPod^TM had just finished playing Amy Winehouse and I quietly awoke and looked out the side window. It was pitch black and then the plane made a subtle turn as if on cue for the show to begin. My window served as a frame for the picture that was about to be displayed to me and me alone. There before my very eyes was the first sunset I had ever seen at midnight. There was a long pink stripe across the horizon. It seemed to go on forever. It was an amazing color and we were high enough that I could almost make out the shape of the earth. It was the deepest pink hue, nothing that could be replicated by my camera. This was not a normal sunset, big and bold with various shades of pink and orange, but a long narrow strip of deep, deep pink that faded to black. Then, as if a painter had been hired to add effect, a range of mountains came into the picture. It appeared as if the mountains were being painted stroke by stroke. We were flying along side a mountain range that grew as we entered deeper into the valley. I could not gauge how far we were away from the mountains, but they seemed so close. Then another small turn by the pilot and it was gone. Just like that the moon appeared. Just like that the moon appeared! It was at that point that I realized we were over water and I could see the waves crashing below. The landing gear dropped and we began to drop as well to the smoothest flare and touchdown of my flying career. You see, as a former student of flight, I try and guess when the wheels will touch down. "Welcome to Anchorage where the local time is 12:15" (that is 4:15am in GA) was the last thing I remember as my GA trained body fell back to sleep for a few more minutes. Despite the experience, perhaps this was all more than I could handle for my first morning in Alaska?