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July 14, 2008
The airport is less than a mile inland from the village. The main runway runs parallel with the road which snakes its way into town and out the other side. Here, by my patio door, glancing to the right, over the concrete jungles of the golf resorts I see the planes gliding towards their goal. At night the lights shimmer, then glow, then dazzle as they get nearer. So long as the wind holds to its normal pattern there is little noise, but when it swings around, or drops to nothing, and landing becomes take off, the noise is deafening.