Planes, and Planes, and Planes.
It’s funny how you become accustomed to things.
Where I live, no matter what the time of day, if you look skyward, you’ll see planes, often several at a time. They’re easier to see at night. I never give it much thought, because it always has been that way.
The weekend before last, I was outside reading, and I decided to pay attention to the sky, a portion of which is one of the landing paths for the “smaller†commercial jetliners. One would come cruising by about every four minutes. I noticed that, once I decided to keep an eye on them, I could also hear every one of them. Obviously, I have blocked out the sound of all but the noisiest of aircraft. I decided to look skyward a couple nights with an eye toward seeing how many planes are up there at any given time. One night, there were more planes visible than there were stars.
I was reminded of the eeriness of the evening of September 11, 2001 and a few days and nights thereafter when there were NO planes in the air. Their absence was as obvious to me as a rumbling freight train would be. I got to thinking about how many people live in places in the USA where they can look skyward at any given time and never (or almost never) see a plane.
I’d have to get used to living in places like that, but I think I could.