by Bonnie Sue Johnson
When I awoke within the darkness of my well-shaded bedroom, I heard the frightful roar of the Blue Angels overhead. They had begun the three-day preparation for their annual air show but in my half-waking state, these beautiful jets sounded like wartime missiles firing down.
I could see them in my mind’s eye, powerful engines making their purpose known with intense velocity. I feared at any moment there would be an explosion! This image caused me to cringe as if in the middle of a war. I felt my power being taken from me, raping my future, scarring my present.
The safety of my room deceived me. I lay motionless within its blackness. My tightly wrapped covers surrounded me as my little pup snuggled closer, whimpering. My imagination ran wild, out of control, with visions of destruction and chaos. Where was the thrill for these magnificent birds that I had carried with me throughout my younger years?
I remember seeing the Blue Angels twenty years ago as I drove home from a trip. I pulled to the side of the freeway along with many other spectators and watched as the magnificent jets danced through the clouds. I relished the moment witnessing their grand beauty. Thrill and excitement flooded my body, as if I was somehow connected to them. Caught up in the moment I imagined that I was the one actually flying these powerful birds through the skies.
I dressed and let my little pup out to meet nature, watching as the noise made her duck. I laughed at us both. Once back inside though, the fear surged through me again.
I couldn’t shake the reality of what these powerful engines represented. They protected our country’s freedom yet destructive in their force. In the past when I watched their graceful dances within the sky, I forgot all about their purpose. Right now I needed to take a walk.
Approaching the street from within the trees, I saw two Blue Angels as they flew on a perfect angle. They moved with fearsome speed and graceful elegance. I found myself saying, “Wow! “ My heart skipped a beat!
My excitement rose as I watched yet a third jet shoot straight up, then spin around and around within the clear of the day. I found myself jumping up and down. I giggled like a child bubbling over with anticipation.
We walked further along. I wanted a better view away from the trees. Even my pup didn’t seem bothered anymore. The jets danced all around us in every direction. I thought my stomach was going to hop right out of me. I wanted to fly away with them into the magic.
What magnificence! What incredibility! What splendid beauty these jets expressed! Within their statement I saw their reality. I saw their beauty. I thanked God! I thanked God for the protection these machines gave. I thanked God for the splendor I received as I watched these Angels fly within our Father’s skies.
Bonnie Sue Johnson © copyright 2000
Bonnie Johnson is a freelance non-fiction writer who lives in sunny San Diego California. She currently has an article being reviewed for publication in, "Chicken Soup for the Recovering Soul." Her story made it past the first Editor with a great review. Now Bonnie sits patiently to see if their chief Editor accepts her article. Bonnie writes her stories from her own experiences along with her interests and beliefs.