I went for a walk with my daughter to the fields and forests at Petikko, and we stumbled on a strange kind of model airplane flying. Two people, wearing helmets, were in the middle of the field, flying airplanes tethered from a wing to a control line. The planes had a paper strip attached to the tail, and the planes were chasing each other.
I found on the net an explanation for this thing: control line combat. There were quite many of these model airplanes ready for flying, and some got broken when they hit the ground. Some of the people flying the planes seemed to be very skilled, running fast loops on the sky, and even though it seemed like a miracle that the control lines didn't tangle that didn't happen very often.
On the other hand, the planes were quite noisy, and I wouldn't like to follow such a thing for a long time, it seemed a bit silly thing to engage in. But I guess so are most things.
(Posting title is from the poem Fairy-tale Logic by A.E. Stallings.)
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A moment of profound silence followed.
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