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Maybe it is because I was brought up by a meteorologist that I have always been sky-conscious. The light, the shapes, the speed; all these communicate their secrets to me. 'How long before it rains?' is still our favourite and most consistent game (although we never keep score; we don't play to win, just hone our skills and value the companionship of our shared interest.) I will never see the sky without thinking of my father: past, present, future, all writ large. A private world of memories, on full display and yet unseen.

'Are you anything like me?', mum asks.

'Probably', I expediently reply. I hate to disappoint. The sky will always be there.

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Hi Linda. I have a friend who flies airbus 380's and he made a video on you tube called why we fly It is a flight into Queensland airport through the mountains. I wrote this based on what he has told me over the years.

THE MASTERS OF THE SKIES.

My name is Nick, and I am a pilot. Today we left Heathrow on a cold but sunny day. The tower gave us permission for take off and we accelerated up the runway. Perhaps lumbered might be a better description. At 540 tons and with upwards of 600 people on board the Airbus is a big old bird. We left the ground and cleared the perimeter fence at a mere 140 mph. The forecast was for bad weather and out over the channel we hit the first storm. The wind buffeted the aircraft and rain streaked down the windscreen. We climbed towards the storm clouds, and they gave us a good shaking as we passed through them on our way up to our cruising hight. Another 10 thousand feet and we broke out of them. They retreated below us as we climbed to our cruising hight of 30 thousand feet. As we broke through them into the bright sunshine, a calm descended over the cockpit. At this point I generally amble aft for a coffee.

So here we are another boring long haul. Hours of just sitting and monitoring gauges while the autopilot does most of the work. Me or my co-pilot changing direction and hight as instructed by ground control. At this hight it feels like you are on a ship in a sea of white cotton wool. Moving a bit faster of course, at 560 mph. Ships are liners. Planes are airliners. The ship and the plane both have captains. The only difference I suppose. Is if a ship sinks and hits the sea bottom, you may be still alive and floating in the sea. If we fall out the sky and hit the ground. It’s a morning with the undertaker.

Today we are approaching Queensland airport, and the sun is behind us reflecting on all the mountain peaks sticking up out of the sea of cloud below us. They are lit in brilliant gold and pink sunlight. It’s a pity that most people will never witness this beautiful scene. We are turning right and heading for a huge peak right ahead. It is the last thing we see as the cloud envelopes us. I can feel the aircraft banking and all the gauges show a turn to the right and a loss of altitude. As quick as we fly into the cloud. We are out of it and flying down a valley towards the airport. It is a dismal day with low cloud and rain. Below 500 feet the world seems to speed up. The rain is lashing the screen, and the runway lights are a welcome sight. I hear the altimeter countdown 100ft, 50ft, 20 ft, 10ft, 5 ft. We touch down doing 150mph. Time for some reverse thrust and brakes, I think. We have arrived.

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