Yesterday, I missed her - ironically, I was too busy fiddling the monopod onto the camera. This evening, just after seven, she roared over, a beautiful white dart of light against a sky turning pink. At nine o'clock, her lights cleaved through the darkening sky, her engine the epitome of power. She'll soon be arriving in New York, if that's where she's going. Twice this evening I rushed into the garden to see her fly over. I won't have many more chances. I'm not a plane spotter, but I will mourn the passing of this era. We have grown up together and it won't be the same without her. I was in a meeting on the day she retook to the skies after being laid off. The meeting paused. Some people went to the window. There was very nearly applause.
