Red Arrows hit the spot
It’s the sound that gets you every time.
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It starts with a bulldog growl, then in seconds becomes a mighty cacophony of noise that scrambles your nervous system. Almost instantly, the Doppler Effect kicks in — appropriately called the Red Shift — when the tone changes as the flight passes overhead.
Then they’re gone.
For a moment you feel like an omlette, before the exhilaration sets in. You have experienced the Red Arrows.
They always fly very low, demonstrating their attack posture when going into battle.
I’ve been “privileged” to live in two houses directly on the flight path of this troupe of daredevils and their flying machines. Once in Bournemouth where I could watch the entire display from a balcony.
These days, my house in Exeter witnesses them overhead as they shoot down to the Dartmouth Regatta and other Westcountry gigs. Is “gigs” the right word for them?
Last week I experienced the familiar roar of jet engines right above my residence. Why do they always pick on me?
For a moment I imagined a stricken airliner from Exeter airport crunching into on my domestic arrangements unannounced. Then I remembered. The Arrows were back.
This morning I saw them again, heading out Dorset way for more displays. A perfect “V” in the sky, with one plane following behind. Along the way, sheep and cows will drop dead with fright, and householders will cower beneath their beds imagining the worst.
Don’t you just love them?
It’s the sound that gets you every time.
