I was sitting inside the house, and I heard it.  I don’t like the sounds of planes that are flying low, or making weird, potentially disastrous sounds, right above or in the vicinity of my house, or where I happen to be at the moment.  You know, those stories about planes crashing right into someone’s house or yard (although, God forbid mine.  Ever.)  My knees shake, I run frantically towards the windows trying to make sense from a noise in which I have no way of knowing which direction it is headed - just to get a false sense of security that nothing bad is gonna happen, when in the back of my throat, I feel a dry crack of fear that is telling me otherwise.  And then, it’s finally gone, and I can start counting the droplets of sweat that populate around my brow and back.

Well this time, before the noise was gone, I heard my dad calling me from outside to come and see!  See what?!  My imminent injury from plane-in-backyard?!  “A B2 bomber!”  So, here I am.  Stuck in the middle of my fear of planes, and my fascination and adoration of their existence.  The fascination part always wins over, when I know danger is not a present factor.  So I practically slip and fall trying to shove a pair of shoes on while still running to the screen door that leads to the outside…    and it’s gone.  Noooo.  Ugh.  I end up going back inside to grab my camera, in case it happens to fly by again, and then come back outside.  So I end up talking to my dad outside, we see Bailey (my cat), sitting on a fence.  A fence?  He’s not that little, so that was a little disturbing and confusing, watching him at the perimeter of our yard.  We call him, and he ends up pouncing towards us, and he takes a little bathroom break..  (which I caught on camera.. haha!  There goes your pride, Bay bay!)..   and then I hear it again.  I see Bailey’s ears go back and he runs off.  YES!  It’s here!  And it sure is an incredibly humbling sight:

Here’s a quick video clip, right after the snapshot above: