Friday, August 22, 2008

And with them rides my soul.

Watching hot air balloons inflate at my feet and float above my head always leaves me in slack-jawed amazement. I marvel at how gracefully fierce their looming presence above the treetops and church steeples can be, and at the simplicity of fast-moving air molecules treading so closely to a beautiful catastrophe.

I am so small and irrelevant standing beneath them.

I am so thankful to know that he’ll remember this day and refer to it often and incessantly. I’m also somewhat happy that he’ll remind me daily that it cost two hundwed and fitty dowwahs to ride in a hot air balloon and that he only had two pennies in his pocket. He’ll be disappointed about his lack of funds for a while.

I love this time of year with every fiber of me.


Blogger mama said...

That last shot is amazing. I wish that my family could share in the beautifulness of that festival. The girls would be amazed. One day maybe.

I love the part about poor C only having two pennies. I can see him right now with his big brown eyes just wishing he could get in one of those big balloons. I wonder if he would be insisting that you drive those too?

9:21 AM  

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