My brother is frequently moved to tears when he experiences a performance of Cosi fan tutte. I have also had similar feelings from music, Tchaikovsky's 6th symphony for instance.
Last night I watched a documentary about RAF display teams covering the 75th anniversary of The Battle of Britain.
On the Tarmac invited guests sat in camp chairs to watch a fly past of Hurricanes and Spitfires. They included a 94 year old be-medalled pilot veteran of the battle, and as one would expect for someone of that age he sat dignified and immobile awaiting the arrival. As the fly past approached he became more animated and finally arose halfway from his chair and the expression on his face unfolded in a flash to enthralled excitement and in particular his aged eyes switched on like sparklers on Bonfire Night. I reckon most of those guys thrived on the adrenalin in the same way as racing drivers do, but here it was just the sound of those Rolls Royce Merlin engines - so distinctive, evocative, and as emotional for me as the Tchaikovsky.
I acknowledge I run the risk of romanticising aspects of a war that was appalling in all aspects and that should never be forgotten.
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