which we probably weren't.
This morning, down in the little town, I spent some minutes twisting my neck as some military jets flew around on some sort of exercise. (I know it was an exercise, because there were several choppers also flying around in pairs from the seaplane (Canadairs?) fire-fighting base. Radio must have been fascinating to hear.) I never realised just how difficult these things are to spot against an azure sky, and by the time you hear them they're gone; maybe just time left to hear a bomb whistle, or are they stealth too?
Today, just a few minutes ago, at home, the same is taking place, but with the benefit of binos I can now see that each aircraft consist of a large triangle led by a smaller triangle in front. They fly in pairs, in what's either a follow me or catch me game. The din is amazing, and to hear that in anger must truly frighten the proverbial out of one.
Made me think it would be wonderful to be twenty-two or so, and play cowboys and injuns up there...
Photography pales.
Rob
