Tuesday 15th November (A Low Pass by a Formation of Geese)


Mr. Kite looked out of his bedroom window just as about one hundred canadian geese clipped the roof of The Residence flying east into the sunrise. Never mind the leaves on the trees today; that was an impressive start.

Now today Mr. Kite and His Lady went off to the RAF Museum at Cosford. Mr. Kite wanted to know how the wings were held onto a Wellington bomber. Just outside the museum Mr. Kite watched the flapping wings of jackdaws, carrion crows, black-headed gulls and starlings. Flapping too fast and covered in feathers Mr. Kite assumed that bird wings were held on by cartilage, muscle and skin. In the emerging sunlight these common birds were very impressive flying around in the open space.

Mr. Kite went into the workshops of the museum to talk to am man who knows how the wings of a Wellington bomber are held on. Examining the skeleton of a Wellington the 'man who knows' showed Mr. Kite The Main Spar and the mainplanes and the fuselage complete with the location brackets for securing The Kite together. Fabulous.

For the next five hours Mr. Kite and His Lady sat by flying machines, read about flying machines and touched flying machines. After all this manufactured metal it was time for a short visit to The Natural World.

When Mr. Kite left the museum it was dark and he drove to Morville to listen to owls whilst lighting some candles on The Special Grave. Tonight the weather was cloudy but still, the countryside was dark and The Church of St. Gregory the Great was solid, black and silhouetted against the sky. Walking through the graveyard Mr. Kite could see the faint shining of a solar light. On reaching The Special Grave Mr. Kite could see the light was shining on yellow flowers placed at the head of the grave. Mr. Kite and His Lady placed t-lights on the grave and lit them. The surrounding lit up, shiny surfaces reflected the twinkling light and  ina small area of Morville there was light.

In the wood nearby tow tawny owls hooted to each other and a barn owl called. So Mr. Kite listened for thirty minutes to owls in the flickering light of a graveyard. It was then time to go. Mr. Kite returned home for a tipple of Shepherd Neame Late Red Autumn Hop Ale to celebrate a memorable day out. Cheers.