One unlooked-for benefit of living near a prominent landmark like Stafford Castle is that pilots love to use it as a waypoint. That's why the grumble of a gravel-voiced aero engine sees me running out into the garden and looking skyward. This burst of unconvincingly youthful energy is frequently rewarded. There's a splendid replica SE5a that visits frequently. I suspect it's being pulled along by a an ex-Cub Continental or something similar, but the exhausts exit down both sides of the fuselage, so you only get to hear two cylinders, which gives it a lovely vintage crackle.
Today was a rare and poignant treat. I heard radial engines revving at about the same speed as the London Palladium carousel* and looked up to see the ex-Classic Air Force Avro Anson snoring contentedly overhead. Those Cheetahs make a noise that borders on magical.
I spent a lot of time in and around this old beauty in my years with CAF/Classic Flight, and it's impossible not to feel a twinge of sadness to see her under new ownership. But at the same time, how fabulous to see her doing what she was born to do. I'm delighted and relieved to see her in safe hands. Well done Northern Classic Warbirds, and thanks for the flyby!
* This simile will be completely lost on anyone under the age of 103