Flying

Dropping someone off at the airport used to be so simple. Today A is supposed to be flying to France, where her mother has had a slight stroke. She's had her Covid test and thinks she's done all the paperwork but, to be sure, I'm waiting for her in the park-and-ride. Although the airport area is eerily quiet, there's a huge check-in queue for her flight. I've been here an hour, now, killing time by walking to the three nearby Turf zones. One is at this spitfire - that I've driven past so many times. It's a memorial to the members of the 603 "City of Edinburgh" squadron killed in action.

She got onto the flight OK, and is now in France