Times slowed down as the noise grew loud. I looked back at my mom, she was covering her ears with her hands. "Wow, that's a very loud truck," she yelled. Suddenly, I looked up and there was a plane right above us. "Look!" I yelled and pointed to what I was seeing. It looked like the plane was falling out of the sky. It looked like an old military plane I'd see in history textbooks in high school. Black with propellers on the wings. Time froze as we froze, unsure of what to do. It felt like it was there for longer than it was. The plane continued to graze the tree tops as it flew away from us. We paused and looked at each other. "Clearly, we would hear a boom if it crashed," my mom said. We waited a few seconds for a boom, but we didn't hear anything. We were close to the bottom of the mountain. We walked a little faster down the trail. People in the parking lot were talking about the plane. "Airplane, low. Airplane, low." A toddler repeated. Good to know we weren't alone, I thought.