A plane just flew over the yard and I didn't even get up to look at it. Could I finally have become blase about what used to be cause to drop everything even if it meant leaving the television screen, dish pan, or cat to run out to see 'the plane, the plane?
Often those planes that fly low over rural Canada are photography planes that record the bird's eye view of farm yards. After about three weeks of the siting, a car will drive into the farmer's yard and the salesman will hold out an irresistible aerial portrait of the farmyard and buildings. Strange how so many people seem to be out in their yards waving at 'something' high in the air just as the plane has passed overhead.
I am not sure where this fascination with planes came from except that my Dad did serve in the Royal Canadian Air Force during WWII and he thus acquired an interest in planes and flying. This interest was also evident in the fact that he attended many many Air Shows at Canadian Forces Base Moose Jae 15 Wing and took his family with him. Dad also was responsible for our whole family to experience flying in a Cessna with our cousin as pilot. He also encouraged us to take a ride in a helicopter at the fair one year.
I suppose it's inevitable that this getting used to what is in my mind a miracle of sorts has finally occurred. I use the term miracle because we are not supposed to be able to fly. Our body mass ratio is way out of line for the possibility of what might be termed as a personal flying experience no matter what Erica Jong might say about it.
I don't believe we were ever really supposed to be able to see 30000 feet straight down to anywhere to either seek out food or sanctuary. I suspect that is why one can't even breathe real air when one is so high off the ground. Indeed we risk of messily exploding if we were ever just suddenly placed up there without the shield of pressurization. Just as assuredly we were never supposed to land from that height with any degree of safety whatsoever using any of our appendages as blocking tools. A miracle indeed if one doesn't take into account human brilliance and ultimate human error.
My son was only about 2 years old when he stood on the front steps and watched birds flying in the air. He pointed to the birds with wonder and awe and I explained to him that they were birds and that they were flying. He looked at me quizzically and said, "Boy, fly?" I replied, in what no doubt has become an unforgivable scarring comment to be written in the annals of Unforgivable Poor Mothers' Comments., "No.. Boys don't fly".
He lowered his head and covered his eyes in disappointment--and no, he never has flown.
Often those planes that fly low over rural Canada are photography planes that record the bird's eye view of farm yards. After about three weeks of the siting, a car will drive into the farmer's yard and the salesman will hold out an irresistible aerial portrait of the farmyard and buildings. Strange how so many people seem to be out in their yards waving at 'something' high in the air just as the plane has passed overhead.
I am not sure where this fascination with planes came from except that my Dad did serve in the Royal Canadian Air Force during WWII and he thus acquired an interest in planes and flying. This interest was also evident in the fact that he attended many many Air Shows at Canadian Forces Base Moose Jae 15 Wing and took his family with him. Dad also was responsible for our whole family to experience flying in a Cessna with our cousin as pilot. He also encouraged us to take a ride in a helicopter at the fair one year.
I suppose it's inevitable that this getting used to what is in my mind a miracle of sorts has finally occurred. I use the term miracle because we are not supposed to be able to fly. Our body mass ratio is way out of line for the possibility of what might be termed as a personal flying experience no matter what Erica Jong might say about it.
I don't believe we were ever really supposed to be able to see 30000 feet straight down to anywhere to either seek out food or sanctuary. I suspect that is why one can't even breathe real air when one is so high off the ground. Indeed we risk of messily exploding if we were ever just suddenly placed up there without the shield of pressurization. Just as assuredly we were never supposed to land from that height with any degree of safety whatsoever using any of our appendages as blocking tools. A miracle indeed if one doesn't take into account human brilliance and ultimate human error.
My son was only about 2 years old when he stood on the front steps and watched birds flying in the air. He pointed to the birds with wonder and awe and I explained to him that they were birds and that they were flying. He looked at me quizzically and said, "Boy, fly?" I replied, in what no doubt has become an unforgivable scarring comment to be written in the annals of Unforgivable Poor Mothers' Comments., "No.. Boys don't fly".
He lowered his head and covered his eyes in disappointment--and no, he never has flown.
1983
1987
2000
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