When an airline no longer wants a plane, it is sent away to a boneyard, a storage facility where it sits outdoors on a paved lot, wingtip to wingtip with other unwanted planes.
From the air, the planes look like the bleached remains of some long-forgotten skeleton. Europe's biggest boneyard is built on the site of a late-30s airfield in Teruel, in eastern Spain, where the dry climate is kind to metallic airframes.
Many planes are here for short-term storage, biding their time while they change owners or undergo maintenance. If their future is less clear, they enter long-term storage. Sometimes a plane's limbo ends when it is taken apart, its body rendered efficiently down into spare parts and recycled metal.
Among all the industries hit by Covid-19, aviation suffered in several distinct ways.
In the depths of the flying freeze, in late April, 166 of KLM's 204 planes were grounded. Instead of taking them to boneyards, KLM decided to keep them all at Schiphol – pulled up to the departure gates, or parked wing-to-wing in a zigzag pattern on one runway, after steel plates had been laid down so that the combined weight of the aircraft didn't damage the tarmac.