We live under a common flight path for planes landing at Logan Airport in Boston. We’re close enough that we get airborne advertising — you can read the names on the bottom of the planes. The sounds trailing the planes converges as it passes over our house. I’ve flown over my house and seen it from the plane. It’s as normal to look up and see a jumbo jet as it is a seagull.
Last March, there were no planes. The sky was silent and empty. It occurred to me that in a lot of places, the sky is always like that. But here, it was immediately noticeable that the planes were gone.
Today was unusually warm for March, and we ate dinner outside. Planes flew over the entire time. As much as I missed a silent sky, hearing the planes again made it feel like things were closer to normal.
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