Contrails, like constant traffic rumbles and roars, are things we tend not to notice. Our brains are brilliant at blocking out extraneous noise. I love a sunrise and a sunset but, almost without exception, they are marked by contrails. We often take these marks for granted, we don’t notice them anymore. This morning, I caught a reflection of a plane in a still puddle of water on the estuary. A straight, purposeful line in the mud and water.