Commercial planes taking off and landing does not stir the soul the same way military jets do.
There is something to be said with the roar of a military jet.
The sound of pride, of freedom, of sacrifice.
F-18s scream over head. Humans gather at the turning point to watch gray metal leave the earth and return.
Bombs strapped to the underside of the wings.
Nighttime sorties flare red and blue.
Tight formations over the deck — out across the ocean.
Precision in air — synchronized landings.
Practice for the inevitable not to happen.
I am protected.
I am in awe.
I am free.