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There were so many places she saw for the first time during the year she spent walking the world. Scorched earth and empty craters, massive statues and fields of rockets, city after city of terrified, lost people and metal spheres dancing through the air above it all - those were the images she carried in her mind when she thought of New York, Los Angeles, Russia, Japan. Seeing those places again in the proper timeline, the way they should be, there was always a moment of vertigo, like she couldn't decide which of the two images was real.
As the airplane banked in a wide circle over Manhattan, she pressed her forehead against the window, unthinkingly seeking out the Statue of Liberty. The last time she saw it, the statue had been razed, replaced with one of the Master. Even though she knew the statue she'd see now was the same she and the Doctor stood beneath in 1930, her heart still leapt in relief when she actually set eyes on it again, the same as it ever was, in this reality.
The plane wheeled again, and she turned her eyes to the sky. During that year, it was always gray with the smoke from burning buildings - today, it was clear and cornflower blue, and Martha smiled to herself, seeing it. She'd walked the world once to save it; it had only just occurred to her that maybe she could do it again, to fix in her mind blue skies and cities still standing, and a world not spinning toward destruction for at least a few days more.