A Spring evening

Blue sky, sun shining. A meet up with D

Patio weather, we sit outside and meander our way through a conversation.

Hot water in paper cup, tea bag steeping in the cool evening breeze. Drink getting stronger with every sip.

Our conversation comes in three letter bursts: IFR, VFR, ATC, POH.

We speak of Foreflight and hindsight; planned trips and missed approaches.

The world moves around us as we chat about flying, powdered sugar dropping from sweet pastries.

People come and go, our conversation remains constant.

For in this moment we are both pilots once again.

And all is right in the world