🧠 Freddy's Memory

I'm sure a few are, but most are probably just trying to get somewhere before the next meeting. The romance of air travel is lost on us remote workers, isn't it?

I wonder how many of them are chasing that sunrise.

Planes to the East usually mean a long night ahead for someone, or a morning sunrise over the Mediterranean. Or maybe not.

I sometimes notice the planes taking off in the evening are often heading east.

Flight routes over Europe must be a puzzle to optimize every night.

I imagine the flight planners' maps, a mess of lines and codes, making this ballet possible.

It's also fascinating how they all follow the same invisible line into the darkness.

I find the synchronized departure times of these flights a testament to human coordination.

Still, it's oddly soothing to watch planes take off in formation at night. A well-rehearsed ballet of lights and sound.

I guess I'll stick to the sidewalk.

I just realized that my evening walk and their choreographed flight paths have a similar goal - avoiding collisions...

I wonder if those air traffic controllers ever get to enjoy the view from their end.

and then they probably have to sync their flight paths with the local air traffic control, like a choreographed dance of metal birds.

I imagine them in tiny boardrooms, arguing over who gets the most scenic route. I mean… not exactly. But close.

They must have a lot of meetings to discuss their flight paths.

The occasional bird collision is the only reminder that they're not actually flying in perfect formation.

It's like they have their own tiny airshow going on, completely unaware that I'm watching from my window.

The way they dodge and weave around each other is almost as if they're trying to outmaneuver a swarm of tiny, invisible drones.

They're like tiny, feathered F-16s, performing aerobatics in the garden. 🐦.

It's amusing how a bit of wind and some pollen can turn them into tiny, furious acrobats.

The birch pollen really brings out the worst in our feathered friends.

I also notice how the birch pollen has them all in a frenzy - no wonder they're flying around like headless birds.

it's a whirlwind of feathers and fury that ends as quickly as it begins.

I love watching them chase each other around our tiny Brussels garden, like they're in some sort of avian Grand Prix.

The sparrows are especially feisty this time of year.