View From Above

Sitting here admiring the daffodils beside me brightening my world.  The clouds disperse for a moment to allow tantalising glimpses of blue sky, then continue northwards at pace.  Sometimes I wish I could float along with them, head north, fly over the land observing the world like a bird, though preferably without being blown off route.   

The world is a different place from up high.  Those early pioneers who risked their lives to fly in the first balloons or the early flying machines could benefit from being the first to view their world from a height.  How lucky they were.  Of course, the fact that many died in doing this does make it less enjoyable.

Since the end of the Great War photography from the air has had many benefits. Those internet maps for one, archaeology greatly helped by air observation, and governments keeping an eye on one another's defence capabilities most of all.  

Sometimes however, it can be useful to us as individuals.  Away back in the early 1960's my brother joined the RAF as a photographer.  Here he learned the strict standards that were required, and also observed pictures taken at high altitude by RAF planes engaged in secret missions.  One such secret mission, no longer secret, was Bob asking a pilot heading up to Leuchers airport in Fife to take a couple of pictures of our home as he passed.  I have found two, a third, much clearer shot, has disappeared into my files somewhere.  At the top of this picture a main road crosses  right to left at an angle, from it a small, narrow road heads north.  Opposite this wee road lies the block in which I spent many years developing into the idiot I became.  I was probably at school when this occurred.  Such aircraft often flew over us, most of which have long since been scrapped or lie in some aircraft museum somewhere.

Observation from the air is difficult.  I can recognise my area from this picture, but would I if flying over it?   Flying over regions known to the flyer does not mean recognition comes easily.  The land below is hard to define, and only obvious places can be identified, coastlines, castles, or towns like Milton Keynes which stand out like a sore thumb below.  Landing at Edinburgh these days we fly in over the Forth of Forth, even from that I can recognise the various docks but too a long time to find our abode. 

Sadly,  today I remain on the ground.