Quietness Reigns

I moved into my flat in South West London in the summer of 2001. At the time Concorde was still flying and twice a day I could actually hear and feel it accelerate down Heathrow's runways 6 miles away. I would watch the flames from it's four after-burning Rolls Royce engines go out as it climbed into the sky over London and headed west.

But as loud at Concorde was, it was the monotony of the normal Airbus and Boeings that I noticed on an increasingly irregular basis. They plied their trade overhead every 60 seconds between 6am and 1am.  But it was a rare occasion that I would look up and watch them as they climbed through 2000 feet over my head, trying to identify the airline to see if I could determine it's destination. They have become the ambient noise for those who live in London.

But not this evening. Geological rumblings on a island 1100 miles away mean that for the first time since I have lived here, the sky over London is quiet. Whether they were built in Seattle or Toulouse, Brazil or Long Beach, tonight they are all on the ground. Every window in the house is open and I can not fail to hear the silence above, and tomorrow morning, for the first time in decades the birds will have no competition.

London is an odd place tonight!