I love this. So cool, and now I’m curious.

So cool that a balloon landed in your yard. For some reason, I started thinking about Dorothy and Toto.

Linda, I like that you included the whooshing. Were you referring to the air slipping by or the occasional louder whooshes of the helium being burned? Either way, this is very nice.Ron Brooks

The wooden bench topped with a thin cushion is hardly comfortable, but it’s unimportant. What draws my attention is the seductive sway and the slight rotation first clockwise, then back as a gentle breeze cools my cheek and ruffles my sleeve. Lisa’s hand is in mine, and I feel the blush of young romance—even though we’ve held hands through more than 26 years. We clink glasses, sip champaign and celebrate each other and the serenity of a sunset flight. The ride is slow, but for me, forever would be just right.

Half asleep, I shuffle to the car wearing my pajamas.

Mom hands me a surprise. The hot chocolate warms my hands and smells delicious. Still, I’m too cranky to smile.

Ours are the only headlights along the endless road. Now with Grammy gone, Mom drags me everywhere. It’s boring and embarrassing to be treated like a baby.

I miss days with Grammy, baking and laughing and reaching into her Summer Box of fun things to do.

Then I see them. Chatter erupts in the car like a nest of baby birds.

My eyes feast on the colors as we spill outdoors. I run to the unfurling…

One cloudless sunny summer day a hot air balloon landed in our yard to refuel. Our house and kennel had a large open field on a corner lot of four acres. My husband and our two young sons went up aways, then down, on the offered trip. I got to see the large, chest high open basket up close and the red-and-blue balloon fabric laying on the ground. I feared the basket swaying like the motion of a gondola hanging from a wire on a rail above a mountain, which I had experienced with Grandma. My family enjoyed it.

I feel a strange floating sensation – a
little frightening but I don’t want it to stop. Everything
is silent except for a puzzling whooshing sound that I can’t quite
place. Now there’s a smooth but persistent rocking motion.
Out of the corner of my eye I suddenly see a flicker of light.

I turn my gaze in that direction and there are streaks of beautiful
color. The streaks become larger and lighter and there is the sun
peeking over the horizon. I realize that I am in a gondola swaying gently beneath a hot-air balloon.