I woke up this morning to the sound of a plane buzzing low over the roof top. I remember the sound from my child hood. It excited me because I didn't think they still dusted crops by plane anymore. I bounced out of bed, hastily pulled on a robe and scrambled out the front door. There it was! I watched for several minutes then raced back inside to grab my camera. I wonder what the pilot thought to see me below with my ratty robe flapping in the wind snapping photo's as he passed over, and over again. I don't know exactly why it is so mesmerizing, but I stayed there a long time watching and snapping the shutter of a plane reflecting in the morning sun below billowing clouds and brilliant blue sky. It must be okay that this morning happened, why else would I be afforded such lovely memories and such a lovely sky backdrop?
