Dusk is fast approaching as Tullamarine airport appears through my windscreen, quickly disappearing into the yellow haze of the setting sun.

The stillness is interrupted as the undercarriage of a Boeing 737 appears out of the yellow haze and momentarily appears bound to crash through the windscreen.

The car is filled with the sound of screaming jet engines, yet I find myself wondering where the hotdog smell is permeating from?

Then I see the gelati van, surrounded by people pointing skyward. I join the throng.

We are sitting off the end of the runway and I order an ice cream.

Rhami Kavaa says he has been here for more than 10 years, selling ice creams and food to families who love to sit and watch the planes zoom overhead.

The parking area is full, as families stare into the distance watching and waiting for the approach of the next plane.

A light appears in the distance and slowly grows larger. Children excitedly point into the distance as their fathers pick them up to get them a bit closer to the action.

Suddenly the aircraft is right in front of us. Necks crane as the distant rumble of a jet engine quickly becomes the roaring crescendo of a plane overhead.

The ground shakes and I feel the sound as though it physically hits me in the chest.

Just as the aircraft is directly overhead, I fear for an instant that the massive craft can no longer remain hovering overhead and will plunge to earth, right on top of me. Then it is gone, with only silence to fill the void of its passing.

Without thinking I am scanning the horizon for the next plane. I want to feel that all again.

My inner child is running rampant. It is almost as though the raw power of the engine surges through you.

No matter how many times I have witnessed this, the sense of wonder and awe that these massive machines can be suspended in mid-air never ends.