gritty (not in a good way)

I’m covered in grit. My hair is full of grit, the way it’s full of sand after a day at the beach. My face is layered in grit, except where my sunglasses covered my eyes. My arms and neck and back are crunchy with grit.

I was all eager and excited to photograph the plane on which EC was leaving, because I! Love! Planes! And you never know what the weather will be like or if you will have the camera or if you will just be bored with all of life in TLT, including planes, if you wait. So I stood out in front of the car as the single prop started turning, roaring louder and louder.

I was ready.

Then the pilots made a slow 180 degree turn, tail toward me, and blew me away in the dust of their wake.