Two kinds of pride, both of them Canadian........The jets come out of no where, suddenly roaring overhead, the loud noise always a little behind, as they break the sound barrier. They dance in the sky, meet and fling themselves apart. Disappear, only to roar overhead from behind us. They leave smoke trails in the shape of hearts. And we love them.
We are watching a 40 minute aerial ballet, given by some of Canada's top pilots.
They fly all over North America http://www.snowbirds.dnd.ca/site/airshows/schedule_e.asp .
giving over 60 shows per year.
Did I mention that they are Canadian?
After they are gone, there is a silence in the air, a ringing in our ears.
We start to walk back home, stopping to look at a gorgeous rose, perfect in its hot pink beauty.
A older woman pauses beside us, and says "my mother planted that rose years ago, she lived here in this apartment, and started all these roses from cuttings she stuck in the ground, now I live here, and look after her roses."
With a little wistfulness and a lot of pride in her voice she says, "she was a amazing gardener, and she could grow anything."