During the summer and on into fall, hot air balloons traveling overhead are a frequent sight in both the morning and evening skies. I am usually sitting outside with my coffee or somewhere in the yard when I hear their strange kind of bellowing sound, like the breathing of a giant bird. Then everywhere dogs begin to bark. After that I know what it is coming my way, and I rush out toward the fields to see the balloon – sometimes two or even three- making its way through the air.
I have never been up in one, and though the tragedy in Texas this summer convinced me for awhile to never go up in one, when I find them flying above my house, seeing the fields and the distant Adirondack Mountains from up high, it makes me want to experience that view first-hand. It would be scary, I think, but also exhilarating, and a lot warmer I’m told than you would believe. Maybe one day I will get up the courage to go for my own evening flight. But for now I will enjoy the view of the balloons from down here, feet planted firmly on the ground.
I've never really liked labels: I am this, I am that... But in the interest of introducing myself to the world, I can say that I am many things: nurse, writer, photographer, poet, painter, gardener, friend, armchair philosopher, counselor, nature lover, real-estate aficionado, movie buff, sometime yogi, and aspiring world-traveler. I think that's a pretty good list... for now. I want to become a bigger part of the vital, creative force I feel deeply at work in the world and connect with other people who want to do the same.