Window Seat

25 July 2026

At the museum in February, Pip was told that his ancestors flew. He has asked about it every day since. In July his father booked the early flight to Palma.

Featuring Beaumont, Pip

In an aircraft cabin the chick sits on a cushion in the window seat, while his father stands perched on the middle seat beside him

The view through an oval aircraft window: the silver wing over an endless field of white cloud in morning sun

Window seat. His father took the middle, which is love by any measure.

Thirty-seven thousand feet. Higher, his father observed, than anyone in the family has managed, including the ones in the museum.

The chick asleep against his father's side in the softly lit cabin, the window shade half lowered, the rooster standing very still on the seat

He lasted forty minutes. He naps on trains and, it now appears, on aeroplanes.

The rooster and the chick walking across a sunlit Mediterranean airport apron toward the camera, palm trees and dry mountains behind, the chick a step ahead and looking up at the sky

At the foot of the steps he turned and looked back at the aeroplane for some time. His father let him.