The other night, we decided spur of the moment to go catch a movie at the drive-in. We’d been having dinner about ten minutes away from our favorite local theater, and a quick call to their hotline revealed that “March of the Penguins” and “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” were playing on one of the screens. We moved several of the van’s seats out onto the ground and sat under a clear, cloudless sky watching the movies.
My gaze wandered up every now and then, and I was struck by the fact that at any given time, I could pick out at least one, and sometimes up to four, airplanes flying over. Most were at the usual 35,000-foot cruising altitude, but they were still easy to spot with their flashing beacons and straight-line movement. Most were also flying generally northeast, so I figure we were under a common corridor to Boston.
Isn’t it remarkable how commonplace and even necessary air travel has become? Less than 100 years ago, the thought of flying at all was almost ludicrous. I recall the eerie silence in the days after 9/11 when all planes were grounded. There is an almost imperceptable rumble of background noise outside due to overflying aircraft. We don’t notice it in our day-to-day life, but certainly miss it when it’s not there.
Another byproduct of our technological society is light polution. I could see only a fraction of the stars in the sky that I know were up there. Perhaps we’ll have a large-scale blackout some evening and we’ll be able to step out our back door and see the sky anew as our ancestors once saw it.
I also caught four shooting stars that evening, one streaking across the sky just above the screen. It made for some excited chatter among the kids who have never really seen one.
By the way, “March of the Penguins” was fascinating, holding the attention of everyone in the family from start to finish. “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” just stunk. It was one of the worst movies Cindy and I have ever seen. That’s one DVD that won’t be coming into our house.