little red arrows

The Red Arrows just seared over the house. I rushed (I ambled) out to take photos and ended up with half a cloud heart pierced by half a cloud arrow, a weird rainbow, and lots of blue. The jets I did manage to pin down on camera look silly. Static and silent rather than screaming fast enough to break your neck looking. And tiny. You dont really see the Red Arrows as tiny, when watching a display.

This was a thing on Plymouth Hoe, to commemorate the start of WW2. I dont really get this. The End, yeah. The Start? It`s a Thursady afternoon. People here are either off their heads in a variety of difficult fashions, or at work. The majority of witnesses to this air display were pensioners, and why not. Although I watched it, kind of. And my neighbour two doors down, who actually has a regular job, but is obviously on her day off today. She said, as we stood out the front, gazing skyward across the playing fields, the Red Arrows havent been here for about six years. I didnt know that. I`m not sure it made any difference to my enjoyment. I got excited by the noise and speed, but did I think about the start of WW2 enough, or in the right way?
What a difficult thing it is to watch jets, especially ones with red, white and blue smoke falling out of their guts. I could whoop , and cry a bit, and shrug. There.