I deleted something like this last night before posting. But seeing as we're going there... ;p
We're lucky enough to have bats living in the overhanging eaves at one end of our house (picture the Bates motel, but a little more decrepit.) On a warm summer's evening, I've a favourite spot to go for a wee perspective and tonic, facing west over a field that slopes down towards a forested valley and the hidden
Wye, with the Breacon Beacons and hills of south Wales in the distance. Sometimes, there's a magical moment; when the lightest imaginable breath of wind comes up over the meadow, like a gust over Spirit's panels, and the road through the village isn't full of artics and superbikes, and the early bats are flickering around a particular pine tree which attracts thousands of flying insects. And that's what I was thinking of, looking at the pic above.
So... *choke*... excuse me if I get a little serious about our poor, brave, departed Chiropteric comrade, who dared to take the final flight, after receiving that "GO" that we all must hear, one day. A second or two of surging glory... followed by a very brief puff of hydrogen, carbon and trace elements as the radiant heat from the SRB / SSME plumes vapourised the poor sod in a microsecond.
cue "The Last Post"...
(OK, OK, I'm kidding, but bats really are very cool. One flew into my study one evening when I left the outside door ajar; this year I'm getting one of
these. Should be fun for the niece & nephew

)