It’s been a long time since I have flown the Auster – eight months, now, in fact. It’s the longest lay-off I have had since I joined the group in June 2010. Since the Permit was renewed at the beginning of summer, I’ve either been at work, away, or busy with other things and still haven’t got round to flying it. It’s been so long, I suppose, that I have even stopped missing it and began wandering why I bother remaining a member. After all, I fly often enough at work – why do it on my time off?

Then, this morning, unexpectedly – I saw the old thing fly over the house  – it was the familiar engine note that alerted me, first. I dashed outside – like that little boy I once was, to peer up into the sky and find the source of the sound. There she was. It wallowed over head, crabbing gently sideways in the cross-wind and with that deep and steady growl of the little continental being carried by the breeze.

It’s really odd how the sound of a familiar engine can pull so directly at the heart strings. I really ought to get back in the thing before summer is out; though I don’t have much opportunity, since I’m back to work tomorrow and I have to go away for 5 weeks at the end of this month.

I’ve already missed a summer of long shadows across the fields and the late honey glow of the evenings. October though, I suppose, brings its own attractions if the weather is dry. Ill hope for that, then and, if I get an early finish one day this coming week, Ill head out to the strip and re-aquaint myself with the musty, rumbling happiness of that old and scruffy aeroplane.