Over recent years there has been a craze around here for paramotors, which take off a couple of fields away to circle around and around the fields. With none of the grace of a floating hot air balloon or the usefulness of an aeroplane, paramotors are the wasps of the aviation world. In short, they are a pesky buzzing nuisance.
When the people flying these paramotors see a walker or horse rider, their instinct is to come across to take a closer look. Then they decide to entertain us with a few swoops before they head off across the field getting so low that their feet skim the crops and they have to rise up to clear the hedge at the end. Sometimes they come in pairs and chase each other up and down the fields, ascend above the trees and dive back down. I think they do to it impress, but quite frankly I think they’re just twits*.
Last weekend, having endured the antics of one paramotor circling around us for ages, we watched in amazement as another appeared in the distance at too low a height to clear the high voltage electricity wires. Thankfully, before he reached them, he gracefully descended into the middle of the field. It was an odd place to come down, so we assumed he had problems with his equipment and as he appeared unscathed by his descent, we weren’t too sorry for him. Not even when we calculated that he would have to walk for at least a mile carrying his motor and paraglider wing until he reached the nearest road.
*That’s possibly not the word I use while they’re buzzing above my head.