I took this photo up at our local Post Office. I was thinking as I took it of the many, many emigrants who left our shores to go where this plane was going.
They, however, did not have the luxury of a plane journey. And those left at home did not have the luxury of a telephone like the one in the photo. They would never hear the voices of their loved ones again.
Here is our local Post Office. It may be cute, but it is also the handiest thing ever. I know that many communities had their Post Offices closed down over the past few years, but I am so thankful we still have ours.
Last year, when DR was going to Canada and the USA (er...did you hear he went across the Pond? His siblings have never stopped hearing it... don't you just love brothers?!) I ordered money in dollars from here. The money comes from the mainland, but I had it at lunchtime the following day. Great service!
As I said, every time I looked upward yesterday, these planes seemed to be passing.
Another one gone, and we're not on it.
These photos are taken looking south over the Ness moor, with the sun setting in the South. I'm about a mile South of our house, with the sea West of me, and the moor, with its expanse of peat, stretching for miles.