Conor. Age 13. Doylestown, PA

In New York—the state, not the city—it was 9:00 AM. and the beautiful colors were all blending together in perfect accord. I woke up after a long slumber. I ate a great breakfast, a plethora of pancakes, a surplus of syrup, and an overabundance of orange juice. After my filling breakfast, I went outside to help my family with yard work and outdoor chores. As I walked out of the glass door, I saw the bright green grass, as green as a tree. I felt the warm glow of the lemon yellow sun. I heard the mellifluous sound of birds singing and chirping. I also heard the slight hum of an aircraft taking off from the airstrip behind our property. As time passed, the hum grew louder and louder.

Inquisitively, I asked my father why it was hanging around for so long. And as I asked my question, the thought hit me like a truck: today was the airshow. The hum of aircraft grew louder, proving my point. Eventually, they were not hums; they sounded like screeching eagles soaring through the sky. Andrew, my dad, gave me the answer proving my idea even more so. He also said that this year there would be Blue Angels; they travel faster than the speed of sound. It was astonishing to me that something could travel faster than sound. I heard the Angels “singing” and flying with such grace, the grace of an angel. They were just flying over the tree line. They made a turn towards us, like a criminal facing off against a sheriff in an old west town. The supersonic jet is the criminal and I am the sheriff, about ready to duel. The jet travelled forward with extreme speed and passed overhead. All I saw was a streak of blue with a touch of yellow. The jets, Blue Angels, passed over and I was astonished at how silent they were. Then, a second later, the sound came. I forgot that they travelled faster than the speed of sound. I stood there for a few extra seconds after the last jet flew over. Caught up in the moment that the jets flew over, I only came back when my parents yelled for me to help them with yard work. Later, as a family, we continued our yard work. 9:00 PM. Bonfire. Relaxation. A refreshing Arnold Palmer drink in hand. Family.

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