The Joy of Flying – Joy and Frustration

It’s been a tradition for years—everyone
in the state already knows it—the
airfield is holding an open house today,
so you’ve got to go there and take a guided tour.
People are always thrilled
at the sight of the manned aircraft,
which stand beautifully on display in front of the hangars
at the airfield.

Along with the display of aircraft, they also want
to show off the little models,
which they
built over the winter—no doubt— in
over a hundred hours of work, with great pride,
out of plastic and balsa wood, and
casually show the audience that
they’re no vain couch potatoes.

They’re
put on display in a fenced-in field, and
at first glance, everyone thinks
they’re just museum pieces
that fellow model airplane enthusiasts have
painstakingly built.
After a chat, everyone realizes
that every single one of them can actually fly.

And everyone marvels time and again
at the model aircraft enthusiasts,
who always find the time
and overcome the restrictions.
For—as environmental regulations dictate:
On Sundays, engines must remain silent.
Yet
the model spectacle always gets off to a splendid start.

Following instructions, everyone lines up,
each wanting to be the best,
and to showcase their
own skills in the grand aerial display.
As a spectator, you’re completely captivated, hardly
believing your own eyes,
because what’s on display for the crowd is
simply top-notch.

You watch with bated breath and quickly realize that
they’re all little masters,
who aren’t just twiddling their thumbs,
but are pursuing their passion— and
, as country boys, have a
wonderful hobby on the side.
Mostly out in the fresh air, they
enjoy the scent of the meadows.

But one pilot is deeply upset—a
mistake led to a crash.
He’d considered an acrobatic maneuver, pulled the
wrong stick,
and his plane didn’t land gently at all— it crashed into the ground at
the edge of the runway.
He’s outraged… this is going too far— a
sight that cries out to the heavens!

The joy of flying is now gone, leaving only great frustration
behind.
His winter work is ruined, and no one’s talking
about flying pride anymore.
He stands there in amazement, staring
at the medium and small parts. Sadly
, he thinks: What a mess! –
And gathers whatever’s still usable.