The Sun rises early evaporating the fog in my head from last nights buzz. The birds are singing a melody accompanying the nice Woman next door as she hums a playful tune while picking fresh Daises. My head is heavy though I know it will lighten as the morning progresses into a warn sunny day.
A faint rumble in the distance begins to draw near and become louder and louder as each passing second goes by. As the rumble becomes almost defining, I look up to see a vintage McDonnell Douglas DC-3 roar overhead. Being so low to the ground, I could almost make out the brand name of the Pilot's aviator sunglasses. The two affixed prop engines clung onto the stately wings propelling this metal of a beast forward.
Time suddenly stopped as she steadily glided in slow motion long enough for me to take it all in. My heart was beating as my head was reeling and just for a mere moment I was living in the past as a boy chasing the 50819 Navel Air Transport Service filled with Solders coming home.