The Blue Angels are here for Fleet Week. Scouting today, practicing tomorrow, a show on Saturday and one on Sunday, both at 3 p.m.
I was lucky enough to catch a good shot of the Diamond Formation. Two other planes have been flirting with the sky, flying crisscross over the Bay to the east then north, then back again and again. They’ve been at it for almost two hours now, distracting me from my pickup chores.
Loud.
Fast.
Reminds me of an old friend’s installation ceremony and afterblast when she became a Grand Matron of the Eastern Star years and years ago now. We were not Eastern Star or Mason, but she wanted us there, so we went. Her family was there.
“And this is my grandson Steve,” Marian said. “Steve’s in the Air Force. He flies planes. What kind of plane is it you fly, Steve?”
“An F-16, Grandma.”