Last night, as the setting sun’s rays filtered through a thin layer of cirrus clouds, Noah and I cleaned up the days collection of toys in the back yard. We picked up soccer balls and hockey nets and baseball gloves, and then we swept the patio and the shed floor as clean as a whistle – Noah even had his own little broom.
Once all that was done, the green plastic adirondack chairs and the grill were all that remained; and the grill was too hot to put away, so we made use of an adironcack chair and ottoman. As I sunk low in the chair and kicked my feet up on the ottoman, Noah came running over and hopped on my lap, leaning back against my chest and using me for his very own adirondack chair.
We gazed up at the purple sky and scanned for airplanes. We could see the vapor trails of jets gone by, but we couldn’t see anything moving… for a few seconds anyway. It didn’t take long for little Mr. Eagle Eyes to spot a high-flying jet leaving a new trail of ‘smoke’ (as Noah calls it). Then we heard the definite roar of a jet engine; not from the high-flyer, but from one on approach to PDX… and it flew right over the top of us.
Noah wondered if any of the jets were going to Canada. He loved flying in the airplanes when we went to Canada, especially the one with the propellers. That was my favorite one, too.
Two more high-flyers with vapor trails flew over, one right after the other. Noah said they were racing. Then another one on approach to PDX flew overhead. Noah wondered why that one didn’t have any smoke behind it. I explained it the best I could. We both agreed that the ones making the ‘smoke’ must have been on their way to Canada.
As we watched the thin cirrus clouds and the vapor trails move on to the east, we waited for more planes to fly over. Noah said, “There’s one!” -- obviously making a joke as he pointed to a bird flying overhead. Murphy chased after the bird as best a short-legged dog can chase an airborne bird. Noah told a ‘knock-knock’ joke. It didn’t make much sense, but it didn’t matter… it started a whole string of silly ‘knock-knock’ jokes by both of us. Finally, to our west, another jet-on-approach flew past… and then it was time for bed.
When it came time to say goodnight prayers, Noah’s went like this, “Dear God, thank you for all the airplanes me and Papa saw in the backyard. Amen.” Indeed. Thank you, God -- for airplanes, vapor trails, and a little boy to watch them with. :-)
