I was standing upstairs a couple of evenings ago, when I heard a familiar sound from outside.
A whooshing kind of sound. I knew that if I looked out of the window, this is what I would see:
A whooshing kind of sound. I knew that if I looked out of the window, this is what I would see:
Rising into the air, taking off from the meadow on the other side of the river. I had heard the whoosh of the burner, as it was switched on and off, to warm the air inside the balloon and lift it above the house-tops.
What I didn't expect was this, just a few minutes later:
What I didn't expect was this, just a few minutes later:
A second lovely balloon, taking off from the same place.
And then this:
And then this:
A Third Balloon!
Totally unexpected - balloons are a fairly regular sight over our village in the good weather, but three at once hasn't happened before.
Floating away on the evening breeze... Wishing I could be up there too!
