YOU stand there with your mouth wide open as they display their flying skills, turning this way and that.

Hardly daring to blink, you watch their acrobatic manoeuvres in the air.

Next, you hold your breath, afraid of what might happen next as they seem to come right at you. But let’s return to that later.

What about the Air Festival? What makes it so special, apart from the beautiful backdrop, the number of displays and the fact that it doesn’t cost you a bean to watch, is that you are witnessing extraordinary courage.

Sometimes, you see so many displays of exceptional skill and valour you can find yourself getting almost blasé about the breathtaking shows. You admire the power and performance of the planes and forget about the men and women inside them, making manouevres that you or I would not attempt in our dreams.

Yesterday, one spectator, who had never been to the festival before, told me she had gasped at what she had seen. “They just look so vulnerable up there in the sky,” she said. “Like fragile creatures that are beyond your help.”

We all watch the same spectacles and see different things. So today I’ll stare at the clouds and wonder what it must feel like to be up there all but on your own.

And those of us safely on terra firma, should also raise a cheer for the Bournemouth Tourism team who organised the caboodle. A great effort again, despite the weather.

Oh and just one last thing. When I was talking at the start about holding your breath, watching the flying manouevres and fearful of what might happen next, I wasn’t thinking about the Air Festival.

But all those pesky wasps out there.