Friday, September 5, 2008

Flight

Walking across the grass toward an appointment this morning, I heard the feral scream of fighter jet engines in the sky overhead, another demonstration or training run from the air force base. The sound is a marrow-deep growl that sounds like power and death; our first Memorial Day here, living near the military cemetery, we were startled out of our sleep by the sound as fighters flew over the cemetery in salute. The jets fly so fast that it's hard to localize the low-frequency sound, but I looked up by instinct anyway, and saw a flight of mannikin finches zipping across the flawless blue sky in missing-man formation.

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