Red, White but never Blue

The noise was terrific and so was the sight of planes old and new flying at very low levels over Covent Garden this afternoon. They were part of a fly-past to mark Trooping the Colour, but most of the people who came to a halt, smartphones and iPads aloft, didn't know that. For a while King Street was a contemporary Pompeii. No one moved. Heads turned upwards. Children silent. All watching the planes. The only noise being the oooh's and ahh's in exclamation of the sheer size of some of the craft and their proximity to them. I was going to Tesco, but I stopped and turned, because I new that 'they' must surely be on their way. Sure enough, an almighty roar and then the hallmark red, white and blue smoke of the Red Arrows. Everyone. But everyone, clapped, cheered and shouted. Big Issue sellers punched the air. Big Lads came out of the Round House pub and cheered. And it seems that this very iconic symbol of Britishness has fans way beyond these shores. It was great to see and experience. And then I met this fine chap and his lady wife leaving Skylon, they having been to the ceremony itself. Don't they look great! No need to dream about winning the lottery, because we already did. We're British.