Balloon!!

This past weekend, Himself and I and Suhayma and Periac (our New Orleans travel companions) went up to New Hampshire to visit Heather and Random (soon to be married) and their housemates and to enjoy the Hillsborough Balloon Festival. The festival was literally a five-minute walk from their house, which meant that staggering to the 6 AM balloon launch, coffee and cameras in hand, was relatively painless.

And so very worth the effort of rising early, even after being up late chatting with friends we hadn’t seen in far too long. The early morning mountain light, and the balloons like floating stained glass, were truly magical. I only regret that we weren’t able to arrange a balloon ride or a “tether” ride. Maybe next year!

Due to the timing of our dinner plans, we weren’t around for the evening launch, but we were able to watch the bright balloons drifting over the hills and the highway as we drove. So lovely!

On Saturday night, there were fireworks, sitting on the lawn of a house owned by friends of my friends–a front row seat without the crowd. More brilliant beauty across a perfect New Hampshire summer sky. No fireworks pictures–I didn’t want to risk missing fireworks to take pictures of fireworks that probably wouldn’t be worth the effort.

So here’s another balloon picture instead!

That night was a late one, and a few cocktails were involved (one of the housemates is a professional bartender), so we slept through the Sunday dawn launch. Luckily for me, nature called at the perfect time. I got to see a balloon, all purple and red and gold and looking like stained glass with the newly risen sun behind it, floating above the neighbor’s house, up toward a ridge of dark New England pines–a last bit of splendor.

“Ballooooon!” –complete with extra OOOs–has now, like “Beach!” and “Kitty!” become part of the vocabulary to which I resort in moments of sheer childlike wonder and delight.