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desperanceMissing things: we miss them.
Newcastle airport is just a few miles from my house. If I go walking on the moors across the way, there's not a heavy but a steady flow of aircraft coming in; look the other way, there are always contrails from aircraft heading off.
Not today, and their absence is ... something I'm aware of. I don't lament it, exactly (tho' I am and always have been vulnerable to the excitements of flight, of heavier-than-air machines in air; and I do still sometimes go to the airport just to watch them fly), but I am very aware.
What this most reminds me of? The reverse: flying into Newcastle at the height of the foot-and-mouth epidemic, seeing the whole Tyne valley below me utterly empty of cattle and sheep. Seeing lines of smoke on the wind, from the pyres where they lay burning.
As above, so below. Smoke on the wind, and empty.
Newcastle airport is just a few miles from my house. If I go walking on the moors across the way, there's not a heavy but a steady flow of aircraft coming in; look the other way, there are always contrails from aircraft heading off.
Not today, and their absence is ... something I'm aware of. I don't lament it, exactly (tho' I am and always have been vulnerable to the excitements of flight, of heavier-than-air machines in air; and I do still sometimes go to the airport just to watch them fly), but I am very aware.
What this most reminds me of? The reverse: flying into Newcastle at the height of the foot-and-mouth epidemic, seeing the whole Tyne valley below me utterly empty of cattle and sheep. Seeing lines of smoke on the wind, from the pyres where they lay burning.
As above, so below. Smoke on the wind, and empty.