Slipstream


This happened almost two weeks ago, but I really would like to write it down so I remember it.
Dave and I had been at the Cheyenne Frontier Days Old West Museum (where he works) helping out for Kid's Cowboy Fest.  The Cheyenne Airport is across the street, past the park.  As we were leaving, a passenger jet flew over - low, coming in for a landing. It came over the building, it's belly right above our heads, rumbling its way past, landing gear down and disappeared beyond the trees.  In its wake came the sound.  Across the cloudy sky a noise, like someone shaking a piece of mylar or thin aluminum all around me, amplified by some cosmic speaker with the most amazing stereo.  The sound bounced, from south to north and back, like an alien racket ball being hit back and forth in a celestial four-walled court, above the grey, low clouds.  It only lasted a few moments, perhaps 15 seconds.  And then it was done.  I looked at Dave, "slipstream" he said.  I don't imagine I'll ever hear anything like that again.  I hope I can keep the image and sound in my head.  It was fantastic.