For four days in August, our yard randomly shakes with the thunder of jets passing directly overhead, kids yelling "there it is, there it is" and the dog woofing wildly. The past three years, the kids and I have driven down to the Museum of Flight to see them parked and hit the souveniers tent. And for the past two years, our family has enjoyed the airshow with our feet in the sand and waters of Lake Washington. This year we invited friends and made a potluck event out of the day.
As a homeschool mom, I'm constantly aware of the educational possibilities that arise during the day. I sometimes wonder what my kids are learning from this annual tradition. To admire the miliary and the mighty machines it creates? To swoon at the power we humans have learned to harness? Perhaps to understand the ambivilance, or duality, that many things in our life hold - the wonder of the gravity-defying jets and pilot precision versus the sadness of the purpose of the creation of such force and skills?
In the end, I hope they're learning something deeply positive and formative from it, because I love the planes and can't wait to do it all again next year!
Theo with the number 6 jet - important to him because he is 6 years old and it is one of the two solo fliers.
Saluting as we pass the Concord. Check out Theo's new flight suit!
Beach fun while we wait for the show to begin.
For Rosie, this much power is still best observed from Daddy's arms.