Folks,

Dux:

Swords and Sandles....sounds like the title of a good Errol Flynn or Tyrone Power flick.

I was just leaving my sister-in-laws home just about 6 PM this afternoon. The air was dead calm and doves were cooing. The weakened sun had painted the sky with streaks of golden orange and it was beginning to dip below the taller pine trees to the West. I stood quietly for a moment by the car just enjoying the delights of springtime.

My eyes dropped and I was gazing down at my keys as if pondering some deep and important subject. In reality I was only wondering where in hell I had managed to collect so many of the things and what half of them were for. Suddenly I became aware of a distant buzzing. It was coming from due west and at first I thought some deranged homeowner was starting way too late to cut his grass. The sound grew in intensity until a small dot just over the tree line appeared.

It was some sort of small craft. I waited by my car as it seemed to be making a bee-line straight toward me. Eventually I could make out a multi-colored para sail against the setting sun and a dark rider hanging just beneath it. The buzzing had now changed to a much more engine-like roaring sound as the craft and its pilot drew near and then passed right overhead.

It had remained almost at tree level. I was close enough to exchange greetings with the smiling pilot. Shades of the old days of aviation. Now that is something you can't do in your Lear Jet I thought to myself. Remembering your recent trip into the air I was tempted to try to follow the colorful craft to see if he might touch down close by. But alas as in the Frost poem, I had miles to go before I sleep. It was a special moment.


Originally Registered January,2001 Member Number 3044

"Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed" - Edmond Gwenn, "The Trouble With Harry"

CELEBRATING EIGHTEEN YEARS and over 20 MILLION VIEWS on SNAFU's HWH thread- April 2019