In the silence of the skies, there is no sound ahead of us. Near us, we hear only the electronic whirring of the boxes and instruments that help us control and navigate our craft while the rumble of friction from our nose pushing through the atmosphere surrounds us. Behind us, that rumble trails as the sound waves expand joining with combustive roar of our engines and fading out as it dissipates with our contrail. The sky ahead of us appears empty as the silence is broken by a traffic call on the radio. As we search the horizon, the reflective dots rapidly transform into familiar shapes of aircraft with flowing contrails and we all race for the intersection. In a moment, our contrails form crosses in the sky and then we all vanish from one another’s view and resume our soft rumbling journey through the silence.

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