I hear a car door slam, then the bark of a dog. Hadn’t quite expected that. Extending my arm into the airstream to take a smartphone self-portrait, the clack! of the faux camera shutter is surprisingly audible.
There’s nothing so remarkable about any of these summer morning sounds except they’re taking place as I fly an open-cockpit, wind-washed, electric-powered production airplane, cruising at 300 feet and 40 mph above the green fields of Oshkosh, Wis.