A sudden fear, a plane breaking through the sound barrier. In the large Pollino area, where the mountains stand silently as guardians of time, this morning, around 10.20am, something tore away the quiet. A prolonged and deep roar, spread like an unstoppable wave, crossed valleys and ridges, crashing against the windows of homes in urban centres, shaking houses and buildings, confusing people.
It was a supersonic bang as science defines it. A shock wave that is released when an aircraft exceeds the speed of sound (1,220 km/h, on average), moving in the Mach cone and breaking normality with the invisible force of compressed air. Terror, fear: “Is it an earthquake?” “Did a bomb explode?” “”The explosion of a gas cylinder?”. Many phone calls to the police, carabinieri and fire brigade switchboards to find out the truth. Science explains, but conscience questions. We need transparency, of course, to know who is flying over our heads and why. But we also need a culture of sound, learning that even the sky, sometimes, can have a voice.
