The plane, the plane

Public transport is a necessary evil in the daily grind of Sydney life. Since moving here almost nineteen years ago planes have been a source of wonder, excitement and irratation. 

When living in Brighton le Sands we were so close to the flight path that we could see our community reflected in the belly of the aircraft. Passengers could be seen gazing from the windows. The noise pollution and vibration was intense. It was no wonder that we looked for quieter surroundings in the Eastern suburbs. 

After a couple of years of noise from garbage trucks outside the bedroom window in Paddington we headed to the inner west. Newtown delivered distant plane and train noise and the neighbour from hell. She loved to party in the early hours of Tuesday morning and any other time she fancied. 

The town house in Petersham was directly under the approach to the runway. When outside we would pause our conversations until decibel levels returned to normal. 

Lewisham was all about the noise from the traffic bombing along a concrete road that joined two arterial roads. We awoke and nodded off to the sound of aeroplanes at either end of the day. 

Leichhardt used to be a suburb plagued by  aircraft noise. In recent years flight paths have been adjusted to share the intrusion. Mornings and evenings continue to be our designated times. At other times it is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. 

The Etihad flight above has its landing gear down. It is about 15 minutes away from the terminal building. 

Thankfully attempts to extend or lift the 11:00 pm to 6:00 am flight curfew have failed.