I absolutely love watching balloons. One of the first times I saw a sky full of balloons was in Albuquerque, NM, many, many, years ago. Just picture this:
Its early morning, not long after sunrise. The air is still chilly and you are snuggled into your coat with your fingers wrapped around a hot cup of liquid. You are both excited and wondering what caused you to exchange your nice warm bed for this?
All around you are hot air balloons. Each one a different color and pattern. Too many to look at individually but together make you feel as if you are looking at a painting by Monet or Andy Warhol. All the sudden, you hear a roaring noise that spreads from one basket to the next until there is a thundering roar surrounding you and vibrating through you.
Within minutes, the balloons lift off the ground, each going up at a slightly different rate until none are left on the ground and the sky is filled with a sea of color. They begin to drift in the direction of the wind, much like a jellyfish floats in the sea.
You stand there, watching, enthralled in the joyful movements of the balloons, loving the way they dance in the sky. You stand there until they fade out of sight.
You know I'd love to ride in one someday but I am so scared of heights that I'm not sure I could do it. I think that is one of those things on my someday list. Someday gives it the idea that I'll do it, just not now.
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