Through larger constellations that move before the eye, we re-define the heavens as sculptors
of the sky. Most of the stars visible from my back garden move. That's what I thought until
I realised that the house is positioned mid-way between three of the largest airports in the
country. I stand out there some evenings watching for a near miss, or better still, a scrape
or a swerve. Not out of ghoulish fascination, you understand. I just feel that as the powers
that be were arrogant enough to think they could safely make so many flight paths cross
at one point over a large town, then they deserve to get a nasty shock now and then.
By lacking consternation that some might cease to fly, they've taken it as normal,
the chaos upon high.
What would it take to give them sleepless nights?