Orange Anchor
New Member
We were on an early arrival into a field in Ohio. It was quiet with the 737's throttles in idle. Fog spilled out of the river beds and lay in patches around the green spring country side. As we descended, I looked down and saw a yellow Beech Staggerwing racing down a grass strip. It lifted off, sucked up the gear and turned. I watched it for about a minute before I lost sight of it. For a moment it was like I had come from a different time to a place where it was still the 1930s. It was a good day to fly.