Now the Aeroplane is over the bay and, the sea being
calm, the Pilot looks down, down through the water, and
clearly sees the bottom, hundreds of feet below the surface.
Down through the reflection of the blue sky and clouds,
and one might think that is all, but it isn't. Only those
who fly know the beauties of the sea as viewed from above;
its dappled pearly tints; its soft dark blue shadows; the beautiful
contrasts of unusual shades of colour which are always
differing and shifting with the changing sunshine and the
ever moving position of the aerial observer. Ah! for some
better pen than mine to describe these things! One with
glowing words and a magic rhythm to express the wonders
of the air and the beauty of the garden beneath--the immensity
of the sea--the sense of space and of one's littleness
there--the realization of the Power moving the multitudes
below--the exaltation of spirit altitude produces--the joy of
speed. A new world of sensation!
Now the bay is almost crossed and the Aerodrome at B
can be distinguished.
On the Aerodrome is a little crowd waiting and watching
for the arrival of the Aeroplane, for it is of a new and improved
type and its first 'cross-country performance is of
keen interest to these men; men who really know something
about flight.
There is the Squadron Commander who has done some
real flying in his time; several well-seasoned Flight-
Commanders; a dozen or more Flight-Lieutenants; a
knowledgeable Flight-Sergeant; a number of Air Mechanics,
and, a little on one side and almost unnoticed, the
Designer.
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