At dusk, in a 105, watching the moon's reflection follow me from stretch to stretch of water over the bogs south of Clifden (west of Ireland). The moon appeared to dive underground and resurface and remained in my memory well after all the beautiful sunrises Her Majesty invited me to witness in various parts of the world had faded.
Skill-wise the one perfect landing in 30,000 plus I do remember - I think!