Life's a Stitch

The covid stay-at-home routine is just that – routine. Same old same old. I try to shake it up a bit by walking a different route every morning and carefully planning the occasional errand outing. But today, out of the blue, the US Air Force injected some excitement into this sleepy little Canadian hillside beach town.

White Rock is quiet except for the noise of occasional motorcycles and modified showy cars that cruise Marine Drive on weekends. People who visit and sit on our deck comment on the silence. The houses are built against the hill, facing the water, oriented so that the sound of daily living is directed in one direction. You are generally facing the quiet side of the block below. The predominant sounds from the Semiahmoo and Boundary Bay areas are seagulls, Canada geese and eagles, both bald and golden. Other sky borne items include kites, motorized hang gliders, small planes and the occasional RCMP helicopter. Once a year or so, the Snowbirds do a flyover. Until this morning. 

We were enjoying our morning coffee when I hear Chuck say "Would you look at this." From between the houses immediately below I see and hear a HUGE military plane accelerating and flying extremely low. When presented with something totally out of context, your mind roams allover the map:

• an imminent plane crash?
• what's going on current eventwise that might precipitate an attack? Certainly this is overkill for this morning's headline regarding Canada's "flooding" the US market with aluminum. Isn't it sad we think this way? 
• a show-off pilot saluting a Canadian romantic interest?

This military behemoth, we're talking 174 feet long (53 meters) with a wingspan of 169 feet, 10 inches (51.75 meters), circles around and comes in for another pass, although slightly further away. The engines, the same as are on a Boeing 757, are accelerating hard from an altitude of 200 feet, the whistling sound reminiscent of a terrorist attack, or last ditch effort prior to crashing. At one point it looks as though it was coming right at us. I suggest we go to the basement. Nah, says C. Someone is putting on a show. If that's the case, somebody's in trouble, as I doubt you can cross international boundaries for that purpose. All that happened in a fleeting moment, then it took a sudden turn and hightailed it directly south. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turns out it was an Air Force Globemaster conducting a border interception exercise. They took a sudden detour over White Rock due to traffic at their planned landing site. That would be the Canada – US border. What are they planning for? Scary. This was the second pass. The first was much closer.

The rest of the story, as Paul Harvey used to say:

Yes, there was a military training event happening, but no, the plane wasn't diverted from the planned airport. It was a specially arranged, with permission, fly-by over the White Rock Pier – so Daddy (the pilot), separated from his family because of the Covid border closure, could "wave" to his four-year-old son. You were right, dear. Sort of. It was a preschooler instead of a romantic interest. 

On a calmer note – knitting progress. Noro Silk Garden Lite Mitred Square Blanket, a third done.