On damp winds they’re blown in, the thunder of their blades as they slice through the air echoing over golden fields. Stalwart defenders of the nation, here they’re far from war torn lands: no bombs or bullets to lay them low, only nature’s unpredictable buffets to keep them humble.
This afternoon I was down at the wildflower meadow with my notepad and my camera when two Chinook helicopters from a local RAF airbase began circling overhead. I quickly snapped a few shots of them as they passed over, thinking they’d soon be gone, only to realise that they were actually landing at the small airfield on the outskirts of the village. Now, that is not something that normally happens! I hurriedly made my way over.
Unfortunately, I didn’t actually manage to make it quite all the way to the airfield before they were taking off again, but I did manage to find a position where I could get a few decent pictures before they left. Luckily, several other villagers had also been out and about and one of them had managed to speak to one of the pilots. It seems that a bird had collided with the windscreen of one of the helicopters, forcing it to land.
I hadn’t actually planned to post today as I’m still in the middle of CampNano – meaning I’ve been busy editing and lengthening the flash fictions I’m planning to publish as compilations on Amazon. The other photographs and poems I’ve been posting lately have all ready to go since June! Another of those will probably be posted in a few days time.
This post is for Jacqueline’s Echoes of my Neighbourhood challenge.
Exploring our connection to the wider world
Wrangling literary arts for writers: words for people!
watching the world of brain research
Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s. Billy Wilder