It was just after noon, and - in typically British style - we had a picnic. As I sat munching my sarnies, crowds started to gather.
People alighted from their vehicles with cameras the size of small children and a sense of excitement built.
Another car pulled up with a blue badge in the window. The occupants of the car in front of ours were summoned, as the driver needed assistance with his wheelchair.
The group of people - who it turns out had never met this man before - not only assembled his wheelchair and helped him into it, they found a blanket for him as there was a cold wind blowing, and put him in a hi-viz jacket for safety purposes as we were near a main road. The traffic was then stopped while they wheeled him across the road and helped him into the field where the crowd was assembling. A heart-warming example of the kindness of strangers.
You're perhaps wondering what was going on, was it twitchers trying to spot a rare bird?
No, it was plane enthusiasts (and their families) hoping to glimpse a rare bird of the aeronautical variety.
It was the Vulcan's farewell tour, although I'm aware - a bit like Status Quo - she's had more than one, I've been told that this time it really is it.
She flew low over our house once, and rattled our windows. Husband missed it because he was in the shower, and I couldn't correctly identify in time the source of the noise. He sometimes reminds me of this.
Hoping to erase memories of missed opportunities, there we stood in the field, eyes focussed on the skies. She appeared at about 1.10pm, glided past our heads, gave us a 'wing waggle' and continued on her way.
Yes, she's something special. Is this really the end, or will she come back and see us again sometime? Thanks for the memories XH558.