The Mighty P-3 Orion

This week's post is in response to Mama's Losin' It Weekly Writing Workshop in which I was to incorporate the word "sparkle" somewhere.

Below is a clip taken from my book I've been working on for nearly a million years now.  Nearly.  Let me know your thoughts- too many adjectives?  Sometimes I have that problem.  But there is nothing better than free editing!  Well, except free beer.

          As the mighty Orion, with her rumbling four engines, soared through the hazed air, volcanic ash spewed forth in a continuous stream atop the mountain peak.  The sunlight sparkled on the wing’s condensation, lighting up the black stains from the engine tail exhausts. 

         The massive plane jutted to the left and then to the right, never missing a beat for she had been doing this for decades and was a veteran to many skies.  She dipped her port side wing ever so gently causing the entire beast to veer to the left in one continuous movement.  The plane seemed unaware and undaunted that just a simple shift in the wind could cause the stream of ashes to be sucked into the intakes, extinguishing the engines and cause her to fall to her eternal grave at the base of the volcano. 

        Yes, as she proudly flew with her chest thrust forward.  Unstoppable.  She believed her power was untouchable and the sky was forever her own- as it always had been.