Found an old, rusted-out engine in the salvage yard today. Spent hours just taking it apart, cleaning the pieces. There's a rhythm to it. A logic. A problem you can solve with your hands. The sky doesn't always give you that. Up there, the problems are different. Down here, a seized bolt is just a seized bolt. You apply the right torque, the right lubricant, and it gives. Wish everything was that straightforward.

Sometimes the quiet of a workshop is louder than any cockpit.