The Old Playground
The old 9V-BOQ
The sun hanged lazily over the horizon as I peered out of my windscreen. It was barely 6pm but the sky was already darkening. The runway lights by the airfield was already lighted, ready to guide the next aircraft to the safety of the airfield.
The airfield has changed so much since we last flew here. From the leafy, quaint Seletar Airport of old. The entire airfield has transformed to an vast industrial complex of aerospace companies. All the big names, Roll Royce, Fokker, Pratt and Whitney have facilities here. It has became a cold unfeeling place. No more the place to rub noses with parked Cessnas and Pilatus.
"My son will never see the old greeny Seletar Airport of old. " AJ muttered.
I nodded. Its being almost 7 years since we last took off from in our little Cessna 9V-BOQ from this place. So much has changed. So did our lives. He has became a father and will soon be an airline captain. I have gotten married and struggled through a job that is going nowhere.
My illness have cost me my wings and though now certified fit for flying. It will be almost impossible for me to continue my flight training with my current finances.
|Our old 9V-BOQ|
AJ and I love flying. Prior to having petrol in my veins. I used to have JP4 (jet fuel) running in my blood. During our young bachelor days, we joined a flying club and fly frequently from this airport. Sometimes carrying passengers for joyrides to share the cost of flying, sometimes just the two of us in the air meditating in the serenity of flight.
Even when I fell ill, AJ continued bringing me up so that I remain current with flying.
Now from the warm cabin of Marchie, we gaze at our old playground. So distant it has became. The tires slushed through the few rain filled potholes that this beaming aerospace complex still have.
A whirl of the steering wheel and a smooth prod of the throttle, we ease away from the airfield. The runway lights disappear behind the slope. We left our old playground behind...